An Impasse
by Cerulean's Skies
Summary: Being married for three years, Sansa and Harrold Hardyng seems to be the picture perfect image of a happy and wholesome couple but images can sometimes be mere illusions and Sansa's doubts start to consume her. Sansa x Harry, modern au
1. Chapter 1

_There's blood everywhere._

_The crimson stain is a vividly horrifying sight against the sheets, a stark red burning amidst all the white. Even her mind can't convince her that it didn't exist. It doesn't stop. No matter how much she keeps wiping it away, willing all the red to go away. It doesn't stop._

_The pain is even worse. She feels like someone had just punched into her, squeezing her insides with their bare hands. The pain is so intense that a sharp sensation spreads all over her abdomen and lower back, colorful spots flashing in front of my eyes. With every ache that pulsated through her very being, she could feel the blood continuing to ooze out._

_She screamed but nothing came out and there's a sinking feeling of fear gnawing at her. She called out for Harry. Where was he? She continued her attempts at screaming, yelling, howling but no sound comes out._

_The babies. Oh Gods! The babies-_

She could feel arms wrap around her, the warmth melting against her, and the feel of soft lips pressing against her forehead.

"Ssshhh… It's okay, Sansa. Go back to sleep."

Those were the last things she heard before she drifted back to sleep, an unrestful sleep filled with lingering loss, the smell of blood and emptiness.

When she woke up again, shafts of sunlight are beginning to filter through their bedroom curtains and the spot next to her is empty, a bit warm but empty. Padding towards the bathroom, she flicked on the lights while trying to steer clear from having to stare at her reflection, busying herself with shedding off her night clothes before jumping into the shower. She pushed down the sudden impulse to cry as the water beat down against her heated skin. Her tears had gone dry a year ago, even the words don't sound convincing in her mind's ears, because shouldn't the nightmares go away too? It doesn't happen every night but when it does the blood is still so vivid and the pain so fresh.

After she finished dressing, she descended downstairs and she caught on the smell of coffee wafting the air inside the kitchen. Not the smell of breakfast of course, Harry was hopeless at cooking and she'd rather have him away from the stove not unless she wanted the house to burn. She was usually the one who rose first, having to make breakfast and all, but the nightmares last night and the poor excuse of a sleep after that had gotten to her.

"Good morning, hun," Harry doesn't even look up from his laptop when he greeted her. She stifled the instinct to chastise him on bringing work to their breakfast table." I made a fresh pot of coffee."

She mouthed a non-committal 'good morning' before pouring coffee into a ceramic camper mug with a red wolf design, flitting around the kitchen to make breakfast. Lady scurried into the kitchen, nuzzling around her leg before Sansa bent down to affectionately pat the grey northern inuit, making sure to give Lady her breakfast after.

She eventually fell into the usual morning routine of her everyday life; making breakfast, eating, exchanging some words with Harry while they did so. Harry would inquire about her plans for that day and she would answer in a tone that she hoped didn't sound as guarded as it felt, offering small smiles. She's not sure if Harry's asking because he's genuinely interested about her daily life outside their home or that he was merely asking for the sake of asking, like it was a chore that demanded to be over and done with before he set out with his day. It wasn't always like this. She remembered the better days where their mornings were filled with kisses, bright smiles, and jaunty conversations.

Harry would kiss her before he leaves. She'd be left to clean after and wash the dishes before locking up and heading to King's Landing Middle school. She's usually the second or third person to arrive at the faculty room, and on some days she's the first teacher there. She'd greet the early morning janitor, Sandor Clegane, who'd gruffly respond in grouching about how early it was for people to be smiling. Mr. Varys, the eighth grade English Literature teacher, would then be at his cubicle, no doubt scrolling through the city's most active gossip site, . He would then greet her with a chesire cat like smile, looking at her like he knew her deepest darkest secrets behind seemingly friendly face, spewing some riddle-like flowery words about the early morning and Sansa would amiably greet him good morning, sauntering over to her own cubicle. Even a few cubicles away, she can still smell the scent of lavender, lilacs, and rosewater exuding from him.

Samwell Tarly would then amble into the room, exuberantly greeting them good morning with his wide smile. Eventually, more teachers would trickle in, slivers of conversations pouring into the room. Myranda would plop on the seat in the next cubicle to hers, Jeyne following, situating herself in the cubicle at Sansa's other side.

* * *

"Sansa just keeps getting hotter everyday," Theon regards Sansa appreciatively, inclining his head towards said woman who was in the middle of an animated conversation with Jeyne and Myranda. She had left her hair down freely today, beams of morning light weaving into her red locks, a striking color against her porcelain skin. She smiled so prettily, lighting up her face, but he couldn't help but notice how it didn't quite reach her eyes. It was the same smile that had made her stand out in the crowded room at the first day of school, asking himself why something so beautiful could look a bit sad? She swept back a strand of hair behind her ear, the wedding ring on her ring finger nearly glinting, a reminder hauling him back to reality.

"She's married," Jon glared at him disapprovingly before going back to writing on his lesson plan. Theon had poked fun at him countless of times, claiming it wasn't really necessary for P.E. teachers to be making lesson plans. But being as he is, Jon felt the need to organize and have a clear structure of his students' learning trajectory and the lessons he had to cover that day. Unlike Theon, who prefers to drone on his lectures and be "spontaneous", Jon would rather have his students learn from him then form a secret rebellion behind his back for being a crappy teacher.

"So?"

Jon shot him an incredulous look, merely making him chuckle. Theon shook his head at Jon in amusement as if the sixth grade P.E. teacher had said something silly, instead of him.

"I've seen the way you look at Sansa, that honorable act won't work on me, Snow," Theon wriggled his eyebrows, smirking.

"Asshole."

"Stop putting evil notions in his head, Greyjoy," Samwell Tarly sighed, interposing himself into their conversation.

"I can't help it if I'm more adventurous than you guys," Theon haughtily defended.

"There's a difference between adventurous and adulterous, Theon," Grenn pointed out, flumping down into the seat in the cubicle next to Theon.

Theon casually shrugged." Suite yourselves then."

"She's out of your league, man," Pyp chortled, swiveling around his chair to face them, finally joining their conversation.

"Don't even try anything with _**Mrs. Hardyng**_, Theon," Jon all but hissed at Theon, narrowing his eyes at him and putting an emphasis on her surname to remind the man of her marital status.

Theon just rolled his eyes, unperturbed." Jon's just throwing a hissy fit because he wants her for himself."

"If you guys think that Sansa would be leaving her husband for any of you then you clearly haven't met Mr. Hardyng yet," Sam chimed in.

"They haven't," Pyp answered." Jon and Theon are new here, remember?"

"He seems like a nice guy," Sam filled in." But I don't doubt his capability of beating up anyone who'd leer at his wife."

"You think anyone except you has the capability of beating someone up, Sam," Grenn scoffed.

"True," Sam conceded." But you know, Harrold Hardyng is a different league from us all together. A young executive of a professional firm, a face women would swoon over, and he recently got featured in a business magazine."

Jon absentmindedly joined in. "I heard he inherited his uncle's company by sheer dumb luck. I-"

"And Harry maintained his position with hard work and dedication for his job, despite this _**sheer dumb luck**_," A frosty voice cut him off and they turned their heads to see Sansa Hardyng standing over them, ire smoldering behind her frigid look. It was somehow lost on them how their cubicles where situated closest to the lounge room doorway and it appeared like Sansa was on her way there when she caught wind of their conversation, seeing as how she was clutching her pink mug with a frown on her face. "I would greatly appreciate it if you don't talk about my husband like that. Thank you very much."

With a cold glare towards Jon's direction, Sansa stepped into the lounge room, leaving them gawking at her back with Myranda and Jeyne looking at them in disapproval.

"Good job, guys," Myranda sarcastically clapped.

"How were we to know you guys would appear at of nowhere?" Theon retorted, huffing.

"Well, if you weren't so caught up in your gossiping then perhaps you would have known," Jeyne hurled back, crossing her arms.

* * *

"You look upset." Harry noted, a thoughtful expression on his face displaying on her laptop screen. His necktie had been discarded, his jacket thrown over on his chair's back rest, leaving him in his white dress shirt, sleeves folded to his elbows. It was one of the days that they'd Ravyn on their lunch breaks, Harry finally finding time to spare to converse with her and Sansa ignoring the suggestive looks Randa threw her way when her pc started notifying her of a video call.

"I am not," She replied, viciously stabbing into a piece of chicken as she remembered the words she overheard earlier that day. Honestly, it wasn't the words that upset her so much, it was just that she was disappointed Jon would even say such things.

"There's a bit of crease between your brows," Harry pointed out, gesticulating at her with a tilt of his fork.

She sighed, relenting." Just some asshole at work."

"Do I need to beat up an asshole now?"

"No, you don't need to beat up an asshole, Harry. He just said something I didn't like." The last thing she wanted was for him to know that she was upset over some words said about him. She knew how Harry had some insecurities over inheriting his uncle's company by "sheer dumb luck", always finding ways to prove himself to the company's directors, and feeling like he wasn't good enough whenever someone mentions how his luck had brought him there.

"Did you give him a piece of your mind then?" Her husband smirked, dimples crinkling on his cheeks.

"Yes."

"That's my girl."

Feeling the need to steer clear from talking more about the 'asshole at work', she opted to change to subject to him. "So how's work?"

"Boring as usual," He casually replied." I also wanna throttle an idiot at work."

"Oh?"

"Roland's being his usual annoying self."

"Hey!" She heard a sharp protest somewhere inside Harry's office before she caught sight of Roland's face appearing on screen.

"Shut up, Roland. Go back to your office."

"Hi Sansa! Your husband's being mean."

"Hello, Roland."

"Have you considered giving back my heart that you've stolen?" Roland winked.

"That's my wife you're giving lame pick-up lines to." Harry bit back.

"Well, they're not that lame if you feel threatened over it," Roland playfully smiled.

"Dude, stop flirting with my wife." Harry looked so affronted that Sansa couldn't help but giggle.

* * *

"Where's Sansa?" Samwell voiced out the question that had been eating up Jon as soon as he saw the empty seat next to Myranda in the lounge room as they were eating their lunch.

"She's having a video chat with Harry so she decided to eat her lunch at her cubicle," Myranda nonchalantly answered.

"Is she still mad at…" Grenn trailed off, eyes wandering over Jon's brooding form.

"Probably," Jeyne shrugged." Sansa doesn't hold grudges though. Just go apologize to her."

"This is all Theon's fault," Pyp pointed out.

"My fault?" Theon scowled." How is this my fault?"

"Okay, children, no need to resort to the blaming game," Jon sighed, massaging the bridge of his nose." I'll go apologize."

Jon had walked on Sansa at the middle of ending her video chat with her husband when he finally mustered the courage to approach her and apologize. His dad would be rolling in his grave with how Jon had acted. It wasn't honorable at all and he didn't know what got over him.

"… Love you too, hun…" He heard her say before she closed her laptop and turned just in time to see him, her expression hardening.

"Sansa, I'm really sorry for what I said," He said, the shame starting to finally sink in now that he was receiving sharp looks from Sansa." I didn't mean to."

She studied his face, considering his words for a moment then sighed." Just don't do it again. I really don't wanna hear something like that again. Ever."

Jon nodded. However, at the back of his mind, he's still grasping about how the sound of her voice seemed a bit wistful and sad when she said the word 'love' to her husband, his thoughts trundle over at the possible implications and no matter how much he tried to disregard the thoughts, it kept coming back to him. It stuck to him the whole day that he ended up blabbing to Samwell over their vacant periods in the afternoon.

"Hey Sam, do know if Sansa's having any problems at home?" Jon asked in what he hoped to be a nonchalant tone, because gods forbid if he actually sounded too eager asking such question.

"Not that I know of," Sam pulled a funny look at him, eyeing him questioningly." She seems happily married to me. Why'd you ask?"

"Nothing. Just curious."

"Well, that's seems a bit personal, isn't it, Jon?" Sam good-naturedly nudged him.

"I suppose it is."

"Jon…" Sam trailed off, his tone indicating that he was going to ask a question Jon wouldn't like." You don't, by any chance, fancy Mrs. Hardyng do you?"

"She's a married woman, Sam," Jon tried to scoff.

"That's not exactly an answer, Jon."

Jon stopped himself from sighing, turning back to the papers he had been grading." No, Sam, I don't fancy Mrs. Hardyng that way."

"Hmm… okay."

He never touched the subject for the rest of the day, preferring not to instigate more of Sam harboring suspicions of him fancying Sansa, which he totally wasn't.

He had been putting his things into his bag after the clock struck five, intent on heading home to throw himself into a long night of grading papers which actually didn't have to be returned until next week, planning on getting take-out and some beer in front of the television, watching some football match with Ghost by his side on his couch. Apparently, Theon had other plans.

"And where are you lovely ladies headed off to?" Jon couldn't help but roll his eyes at the flirty way Theon had asked.

"Since, it's an easy day tomorrow. We decided to grab some pizza and milkshake nearby after work," Myranda answered.

"You guys can join us if you want," Jeyne smiled." The more the merrier."

"Sure. I'm pretty sure most of us have nothing to do after work today, not being tied down and all," Theon casually declared.

"Gee thanks for reminding me," Sansa, the only married one in the group, rolled her eyes, lips slightly tugging in amusement.

"Don't be such a killjoy, Sansa," Myranda pouted." Come with us. You did say Harry was having overtime at work today. I'm sure he won't mind."

"Yeah, we promise to bring you home before bedtime," Jeyne teased.

Sansa sighed." Fine. Just let me call Harry first."

* * *

Unsurprisingly, Harry was not picking up his phone and her call went directly to his voicemail. Harry had somehow buried himself into work, most of the times staying overtime at the company, prompting Sansa to always go home to an empty house and eat dinner alone. She had learned by now, not to wait for him.

After leaving him a message, informing him that she'd be eating out with the girls and that he'd be having pizza for dinner tonight since she won't be cooking, she walked back to where the others were waiting for her.

The pizza place they were heading to was a few blocks away from the school so it didn't take so much time for them to get there. The place was quaint and wasn't overly crowded during the afternoon, so the girls had taken to hanging out there whenever they had time to spare. After ordering and having gotten their food, the group had easily taken to conversing and exchanging light-hearted japes.

"I swear Edric Storm would be the death of me," Jeyne lamented, talking about an eight grade student who had quite a reputation of being a "troublemaker."

"Wasn't that the kid who triggered the fire alarm when you took the class outside for some activity last year, Sansa?" Myranda asked, tittering.

Sansa inwardly shuddered at the memory. "Don't remind me."

"That bad, huh?" Jon smiled at her.

"I had to make a call at the local fire station for that which hadn't ended up pleasantly," Sansa grimaced, remembering how she got told off over the phone for that.

"Well, atleast you're not like Sam here who cried when Ramsay Bolton stabbed his classmate with a pencil during his class," Pyp jokingly swung an arm over Sam's shoulder, patting him." You were supposed to keep the class calm, not panic the children more."

"And I thought stabbing classmates with pencils was only a thing for pre-primary students," Grenn remarked, shaking his head.

"Nah, apparently 7th graders do it too," Theon casually commented, leaning back in his seat.

"Enough of gloomy talks about our troublesome students, I heard we were holding a fundraising activity this month," Myranda grinned." I also heard Principal Martell would be holding a small football match with willing teachers and volunteer parents."

"Yup, she asked me about holding a football match in the school stadium for the fundraiser," Jon vouched.

Sansa arched a brow at Myranda." Since when were you interested in football?"

"Since she decided that football players were a better sight to ogle at during games," Jeyne pointed out, flashing them an impish look.

"Good, cause we're joining," Theon smugly smiled.

"Except me," Sam chimed in.

"Jon would probably have to save your asses out there," Myranda snickered.

"Hey, I can play football just fine, Ms. Royce," Grenn protested, offended.

Myranda snorted, rolling her eyes before her attention fixed on Sansa." Sooo… Sansa, maybe Harry would be interested in joining. With all the football charity matches he gets into, he could probably show Grenn here how real football is played."

"Your faith in my football skills is endearing," Grenn sarcastically stated, narrowing his eyes at Myranda.

"Your husband plays in football charity matches?" Sam asked, piqued." Well, that's very… noble."

"Hmm… Cricket and basketball charity matches too. Keeps him busy during the weekends." Was Sansa's prevaricating answer.


	2. Chapter 2

"I did warn you about marrying your own bestfriend," A familiar voice declared as Harry had been going over some paper works in his office. Roland was standing by the doorway, his brief case grasped in one hand while he had his suit jacket hanging by the other." You need to talk to someone."

"I haven't noticed that I stopped talking to people," Harry sarcastically retorted, feigning a baffled expression.

"Go home to your wife, Harry. With all the overtime you're doing, I'm starting to think you're violating federal overtime rules." Roland futilely said before casting one last hopeless glance at Harry and leaving.

Harry glanced at the wall clock at the corner of his office. _5:10 p.m._

Going home early did sound tempting. But he had found it was easier to bury himself in work than have to deal with seeing the look of disapproval on his wife's face. He calls it disapproval because he doesn't want to call it disappointment, even three years of marriage didn't prepare him enough for Sansa's disappointment, calling it as that would be further breathing life on it. Maybe it's because Sansa's disapproval is more subdued and muted, like the calm before the storm. It was too calm and she never says anything about it, leaving him at a loss every time. He wants her to speak to him about it, snap at him, glare, rage even because it would be easier to deal with than the silent disapproval. Because he'd know what to do with those, and Sansa's too calm and collected expression makes him uncertain and question his every course of action these days.

He loves Sansa, he really does. He loves her radiant blue eyes, like the blue of the sea kissed by summer delight. He loves her fiery red hair, as vibrant as his favorite season, he loved running his hands through it, loved it even when he wakes up to her hair all over his face and his arms around her. He loves her smile, the sound of her laughter, even her slightly bumpy nose and cute chin. He loves the way she wrinkles her nose before she's about to bicker with him, the way her face lights up whenever there are lemon cakes, and the way she can harden her skin to steel while remaining soft-hearted regardless. He loves the way she'd casually throw back her hair in a quick bun then wear oversized cotton shirts and comfy-looking shorts at home, thinking her beautiful even on days where, according to her words, she can't be bothered to put any effort in her appearance. He loves her even at 3 in the morning when she used to call him to talk about the most random things. He loves her even in the middle of an argument. He loves her even when she cried, eyes puffy and face blotchy. And he, most certainly, loved her when he almost lost her.

People never quite know the depth of grief until death touches the people they love and when Harry had almost lost Sansa, it had been the most overwhelming suffering of the worst kind for him. The helplessness had been a terrible thing as he listened to her cry out for him, and he wanted to help her, ease away her pain and fear, but there was nothing he can do. He had never felt more useless and afraid as that night, watching Sansa bleed and hearing the doctor say that she could die then. His world was probably falling apart then and there but he couldn't even do anything about it but wait. Harry had never been a patient person, and it had been the longest wait in his life. He had never been a pious man but he had prayed and bargained with all the gods out there to keep his wife alive.

She lived, yes. But their marriage had never been quite the same. Sansa grieved over their loss by seeking solace from her sister, Arya and her friend, Brienne Tarth, having made them stay at King's Landing for almost a year. But he never sought his, and that hurt like hell. He was grieving too, but he had to stay strong for her, even if Sansa was the strongest person he knows, and he also had to deal with the shame of feeling like he had no right to weep when Sansa was suffering more than him.

* * *

When he finally arrived home, Sansa was already asleep in their bed, red hair sprawled on their pillow case and back turned to his side of the bed.

She stirred when he eventually crawled next to her.

"I'm sorry, did I wake you?" He softly asked when he saw her rousing from her slumber.

"No, it's okay," She replied, drowsily rubbing the sleep from her eyes and yawning at the end of her sentence.

He gently gathered her in his arms and pulled her closer to him, her back against his chest." So how was eating out with friends?"

"It was okay. They've been more interested in despairing over some troublesome kids in their classes."

"So Edric Storm pressing the fire alarm earned first place?"

"It's not a competition, Harry." Even if he couldn't quite see the expression on her face, he could tell that was rolling her eyes at him.

"Hhmm…"

"So the school's holding a fundraising activity, including a friendly football match between willing teachers and other interested participants, would you like to join?"

"When's that?"

"The 31st, Saturday."

"Sure."

Eventually drifting to sleep, their conversation lulled into silence. And as Harry wrapped his arms tighter around Sansa, he reminded himself that she was there and she was alive just like he always does every night.

Ron's words fleetingly crossed his mind. _"You need to talk to someone."_

* * *

"Early to arrive and one of the last people to leave." Sansa looked up from her cubicle to see Jon Snow, a ghost of a smile on his face. It was only the two of them in the faculty room that morning, Sansa having arrived first and Jon surprisingly arriving next to her." You're really dedicated."

"Thanks." She smiled." And, well, you're early."

"My dog woke me up early, leash in his mouth, asking to be walked," Jon grumbled, but despite this, she could hear it in his voice how he was fond of his dog.

"That's adorable," She replied." I have a dog too but she doesn't do that though."

"Oh."

"What?" She asked, a bit befuddled with the ambiguous surprise in his gaze.

"It's just…" He trailed off, sheepish." You seemed like a cat person to me."

She tried not to laugh. "Do I seem like the type to grow old alone and adopt a bunch of cats, Mr. Snow?"

"Well…" As Jon stumbled over his words, Sansa couldn't help but burst out into giggles, making Jon flush.

"I have to say, you're not quite the same as I first thought you were," Sansa said, amused.

"And that was?"

"I thought you were a bit too broody and wore too much black."

Jon snorted." I get that a lot. Most people would say I look too broody. But honestly, most of the time I'm just thinking about where I last left my car keys or red pen."

Sansa laughed." You do have a sense of humor."

"Theon and the others should hear that."

"They'd laugh." She suppressed back a scoff.

"Exactly."

"So what's with the black get-up?"

He nonchalantly shrugged." I like black."

"You must like it a lot."

"Of course," He smiled, expression loosening." What's your favorite color then, Mrs. Hardyng?"

"Blue." _Deep blue like-_

"Like your eyes."

"No, my hu-" She stopped mid-word, slightly shaking her head," Nevermind. I just remembered something."

Fortunately, Sam stepped into the room, announcing his arrival with a jovial greeting. Her expression might have betrayed her because she took notice of Jon sneaking one last glance her way before greeting Sam back. She's glad he doesn't press more on the subject.

* * *

It's one of the rare days that Harry remembers he has a wife at home and decides to go home early, Sansa inwardly noted. She had been chopping some vegetables and making dinner when she heard the front door open, followed by the sound of Lady happily yipping from the living room, the high-pitched way she usually makes whenever either of them arrives home.

She could feel more than hear him walk into the kitchen before she felt his arms wrap around her waist. He nuzzled against the area between her neck and her shoulder.

"Hmmm… Something smells good." His voice is sultry and deeper as he peppered kisses on her neck. She's not sure if she meant the dinner she was fixing or… something else.

She's pleased with herself when she doesn't even stutter as she shooed him off the kitchen, telling him that bad things happen whenever he's allowed to be near the stove.

Harry chuckled as he left the kitchen." You were just distracted by me."

"I heard that."

"You were meant to, hun." Was Harry's amused reply as he headed upstairs.

Dinner had been pleasant after that, less lonely and quiet than the nights she spent eating dinner alone in front of the TV because the dinning room felt too large and desolate when it was just her. They talked about their day, her chattering about the preparations done for the fundraising activity, and him griping about how Lady Anya and Yohn Royce were breathing down his neck lately.

Harry helped her with the dishes after and she had gladly accepted the offer. She washed while Harry was tasked with wiping and drying them because she didn't quite trust him with cleaning her precious porcelain plates. Standing shoulder to shoulder, Sansa would chide him on the CORRECT way to organize the dishes and Harry- _**"For gods' sake woman, it's just a plate."**_\- Harry would just roll his eyes and poke fun at her, at her porcelain plate's expense. Even if kitchen is quite spacious, Harry would purposely knock elbows and hips with her as he tried hogging more space. Sansa, getting annoyed by this, would retaliate by bumping hips with him, making him chuckle and kiss her nose.

"You're the worst," She grumbled, trying to give him a fierce glare.

"Nope, I'm the best. You know that," He cheekily retorted, coyly quirking an eyebrow at the implication.

"Ugh Harry…" Sansa groaned, to suppress the giggle bubbling from her throat.

Later, they'd find themselves curled up on the couch together in front of the tv, her body moulded to his own as they watched 'Midnight in Paris' after Sansa had won the argument over what film to watch.

"I mean, why w- Sansa!" Harry all but yelped when Sansa pressed her freezing foot against his leg. Sansa had been aware that he was going to spew out another bitter criticism about to movie and knew it was easier to shut him up by doing so, remembering how he'd point out how her feet are always cold, like she was a walking icicle.

"Stop bashing the movie," She practically hissed.

"It's constructive criticism."

"No, it's not."

Eventually, Harry would stop bitterly pouring his scorn on the movie and would tell her of the time he visited Paris and made the mistake of using his camera in an area where he wasn't supposed to, having other French locals look at him and warn him, causing him to spew out the wrong French phrases to which they had looked at him weirdly.

"I was bad at French then."

"Oh? Are you saying you're not still bad at it now?"

Harry grinned sensuously, gaze turning darker as he proceeded to shower kisses to her neck and whisper French words to her ears.

The moment is ruined when his phone ringtone goes off. Harry's lolled to her shoulder, groaning in frustration.

She caught sight of the name displayed on his phone screen and she stiffened before swiped it off the table, excusing himself to go answer the call.

_Cissy Oakcliffe_

* * *

_Sansa was not an idiot and she certainly had no inclinations on playing dumb, she knew Harry had slept with someone, was probably still sleeping with her. Harry might think he had been careful with his deceit but the tiny lipstick stain imprinted on the edge of the collar to his red dress shirt had given him away. It could've gone unnoticed for anyone but not Sansa. _

_Still willing to spare him a bit of her trust, she waited for him to confess his transgression to her and ask for her forgiveness. But he never did. _

_It was even worse when she discovered that he was cheating on her with his secretary- Cissy Oakcliffe._

_The woman had the gall to look at her smugly, eyeing her head to toe, when Sansa had come over and visited Harry at his office. She was pretty, blonde, voluptuous and wasn't awkwardly tall. Sansa hated how she felt uncomfortable in her own skin after seeing her._

_Here was a pretty woman, chesty and skinnier, who's always near him eight hours a day and the only thing separating them was a door. They had plenty of time to themselves while Sansa slaved away at her own job, dealing with rambunctious and stubborn kids at the verge of their rebellious phase. She was merely the woman Harry came home to, and he had taken to staying late at work lately._

* * *

"I could hear the gears turning in your head with all the thinking you're doing today," Myranda commented, plopping down the seat next to Sansa in the lounge room." What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I was just thinking."

"Yes, yes. It was hard not notice," Myranda scoffed, earning a sharp look from Sansa.

"You're putting even Mr. Snow to shame with all the brooding you're doing, Sansa," Jeyne giggled, attempting to cheer up her sullen friend.

"I should be offended," Sansa retorted.

"Speaking of Jon, I think he has the hots for you," Myranda nudged Sansa, wiggling her eyebrows.

"Myranda, I'm married." Sansa sighed.

"I'm just saying," Myranda leaned closer to Sansa," I know when a guy is interested, Sansa."

"Don't be ridiculous."

"It's just harmless crushing," Jeyne said.

Yes, harmless. Nothing wrong with that.


	3. Chapter 3

"What are you doing?" Jon grouched, shooting Theon questioning looks as the brunet's gaze intently raked over the football field, pulling the most focused expression Jon had ever seen on his laidback friend's face. It was the day of the school fundraising activity and Jon had been in a sour mood because apparently red was not his color and the faculty members playing had to wear the dreaded color. Grenn, Pyp, and Theon had the gall to burst into laughter when they saw him wearing his red kit, ridiculing him.

"I'm assessing our opponents," Theon smugly replied, haughtily crossing his arms.

"Well, don't hurt yourself over thinking too much, mate," Pyp jested, chortling.

"Why you," Theon scowled, pouncing on Pyp if it weren't for Jon stopping him with a hand on his shoulder.

"Fight our opponents, not our teammates, Theon," Jon lectured.

"So did you spot anyone in particular in the other team?" Grenn inquired, casually kicking around a soccer ball. Other players were warming up in the field.

"Nah, we'll definitely beat these people," Theon scoffed.

"You guys should be warming up," Jon frowned.

"We are," Theon shot back." We just wanna get to know our opponents first. And we can totally kick their asses."

"I just wanna get out of this bloody kit," Jon grumbled, scathingly glaring at his red kit.

"Yeah, why did the other teams get blue anyway?" Grenn snickered at Jon.

"Dunno," Pyp shrugged." What I do know is, red is definitely not Jon's color."

"Shut up," Jon glowered.

"Wait," Theon said, earning their attention." Who's that?"

Theon gestured at a blonde man, wearing a blue kit, jogging around and kicking a soccer ball at the other side of the field.

"Oh, that's Sansa's husband," Pyp casually replied.

"Jon, competition," Theon mirthfully nudged Jon.

"Shut up, Theon," Jon snarled.

"Let's bet," Theon declared, grinning and getting too much fun out of the situation." Loser has to buy drinks the next time we hit the pub. I bet he'd kick Jon's ass."

"This is a friendly match, Theon," Jon unsmilingly reminded." And I feel offended that you should be betraying me like this."

Theon casually shrugged." Just wanted to be on the winning side."

"You don't even know him," Jon bit back, affronted.

"He's taller," Theon nonchalantly replied.

"Damn you, Greyjoy," Jon threw Theon a withering glare.

"I'm betting on Jon in this one," Grenn chuckled.

"Thank you, Grenn, you're a good friend," Jon stated, throwing Theon sour looks and putting emphasis on his next words," Unlike someone here."

"I'm with Jon in this one," Pyp said." We're actually teammates here, Greyjoy."

"I gotta say," Theon impishly smirked, throwing a glance at Jon," I always had a hunch Sansa was into blondes."

"Theon, shut up."

* * *

"Damn, Sansa," Myranda bit her lip, a look of appreciation on her face, as they had found a spot on the front row bleachers." You got that nice booty to yourself. I'm jealous."

Sansa shot a sharp look at Myranda as the other woman _appreciatively_ gazed at Harry warming up around the field. She had to admit he filled out his blue kit quite nicely, especially his shorts." Don't be obscene, Randa."

Jeyne giggled." Good luck with making her do that."

Sansa threw Myranda a warning look when she saw Harry heading to their direction.

"Ladies," Harry smiled, effortlessly turning on his charm in his usual way.

Both Myranda and Jeyne immediately chirped a "Hello, Harry", making Sansa roll her eyes at this.

"Shouldn't you be running around the field with a ball?" Sansa asked sarcastically. Despite herself, she couldn't help but be amused at Harry's enthusiasm in the football field.

Opting to leave them to their conversation, Myranda and Jeyne waved over the others to the front row bleachers.

"Warming up can be fun and all but…" Harry smiled, a certain glint in his eyes." I got other ideas to prepare for the game."

Their conversation is interrupted when Jon and the others approached the front row bleachers as Sansa proceeded to introduce Harry to the new addition to the faculty that year, Jon Snow and Theon Greyjoy, hastily stifling back a giggle when she noticed Jon surreptitiously elbow Theon when he thought the others weren't looking and Theon suppressing a groan of pain. She exchanged looks with Jon, noticing a sliver of a smile on his face directed at her.

She felt Harry tuck his arm around her waist, pulling her closer.

"I was just telling your friends that you can be good at football too, Sansa," Harry smirked, playfulness evident in his tone.

Sansa immediately glared at him, already knowing quite well what he meant. He would never let her live it down, even to that day.

"Harry…" Sansa warned.

Harry chuckled." I once got the idea of teaching her football. She had the height for it."

Theon snorted." I wonder if Jon has the height for it."

"Shut up, Theon," Jon scowled, and if looks could kill then would undoubtedly be a cold corpse on the ground at that moment.

"Harry, they really don't wanna listen to this," Sansa hastily said, trying to make Harry shut his mouth.

"Oh no no, do go on, Harry," Myranda enthusiastically pressed on.

Harry shot her a look that said 'love you too, hun' before proceeding to embarrass her in front of her friend with his tale." She got so frustrated she kicked the ball and it bounced off the wall and knocked off the wig of an unsuspecting person by the bleachers."

"I didn't mean to," Sansa practically squeaked in embarrassment as her friends chuckled at the story at her expense.

Glaring at Harry pointedly, she muttered," Traitor."

"Speaking of embarrassing," Pyp grinned," How's Jon in red?"

"Red's not your color, Jon, nuh-uh," Myranda said in an amused commiseration.

"No wonder you were brooding harder than usual," Sansa teasingly pointed out.

"Yup, you could hear him brooding even from the other end of the field," Grenn added, playfully nudging Jon.

"I feel really attacked now."

* * *

"Harry's good," Myranda commented as they watched the game play out in front of them, Harry all but scuttling through a thicket of defenders.

"He should be. He was a varsity player in football back in college and had wanted to be professional football player," Sansa replied, regarding Harry as he prepared to shoot, catching on the thing he does with raising his head for a good look at the goal, Jon trotting after him." Jon isn't bad himself."

"I think the only reason the faculty team isn't losing yet is because of Jon putting up a fight," Jeyne noted.

"Jon really seems so serious about this," Sansa said. Ever since the game began, Jon had been faring well against the other team. Harry had been a given, and she had to remind him that his was supposed to be a friendly match and to just have fun. Sometimes, his love for games just gets the best of him.

"The Harry versus Jon interaction is exciting," Myranda grinned.

"Oh, this is like one of those medieval knights thing, where they battle it out to defend the maiden's honor," Jeyne giddily effused.

"So what says you, fair Sansa?" Myranda dramatically asked, skittishly mocking.

"It really isn't like that," Sansa muttered.

When the referee blew the whistle for the beginning of the second half, the crowd getting more lively and cheering for their favored teams. Sansa couldn't help but smile, Harry was enjoying the attention and whenever he was out there in the football field, he looked like a happy kid having fun with his soccer ball. Ten minutes into the game, Jon managed to finally take possession of the ball and roughly landed a goal, receiving a cheer from some of the spectators. Sansa saw Pyp and Grenn tackle Jon in a triumphant hug, Theon patting him in the back.

Eventually, Harry's team controlled the ball back again, well enough that the faculty team was having a hard time taking it from them. Harry had the possession of the ball and the others were barely challenging the ball so he had a clear shot at the goal. The crowd was at the edge of their seat as the game pushed on. Time begin to move fast as the faculty team tried to put up a fight and Harry's team defended well enough. She saw Grenn block the shot of the player who had the ball so said player had to make a pass at Harry, making him take possession of the ball as he moved through the field. He was sprinting swiftly, driveling though the defenders and looking up to get a look at the goal before he kicked the ball. The keeper tried to save the shot but the ball entered the net. That was the winning goal. Subsequently, the referee blew the whistle to announce the end of the game as Harry whooped happily, his teammates gathering around him, relishing in their triumph.

* * *

"Looks like Grenn and Pyp will be paying for drinks," Theon declared as they were preparing to leave the football field and head to the assigned locker room, placing his arms around Grenn and Pyp's shoulders, grinning.

"You don't seem even a bit upset at losing the game," Grenn grumbled, roughly shrugging off the arm on his shoulders.

Theon casually shrugged.

"The guy was a demon in the field," Pyp bitterly muttered.

Jon's brooding intensified. For all the years he'd been playing football, he'd like to think he was more than "decent" in the sport. He was better than most of his teammates. But-

"Snow," He heard a familiar voice calling behind him, making him stop mid-step and turn around.

Harry's grinning face greeted him as Sansa's husband stuck out a hand for a handshake which he reluctantly shook." That was a good game, mate. I'll be looking forward to playing with you again."

"Thanks. You too," Jon gave him a tight smile before the blonde dashed away, gathering an unsuspecting Sansa in his arms who gave him a chastising look. Eventually, Sansa couldn't suppress her laughter anymore as her husband practically beamed at her.

"What did he want with you?" Grenn asked, pulling Jon back from his train of thoughts and quickly diverting his gaze from the happy couple.

"He just wanted to say that it was a good game and he looked forward to playing with me again," Jon stiffly replied." Empty pleasantries."

"You did put up a good fight," Grenn said, good-naturedly punching his shoulder.

"Yeah, Snow, lighten up, at least you'll finally be out of that red kit," Theon skittishly added.

Jon's lips slightly twitched in a semblance of a smile.

* * *

During lunch time, teachers, parents, and students convened out in the school's spacious lawn for the school picnic. Harry had brought out the basket filled with food she had prepared earlier as she laid out the blanket at the area where most of the faculty members with some of their own families were gathered. While she was getting the food out of the basket, she couldn't help but notice Harry talking to Mrs. Wynafryd Manderly-Corbray, the seventh grade Home Economics teacher, who had baby Wyman in her arms.

"Where's Lyn?" Harry asked, having been friends with the woman's husband from when they had been neighbors in Ironoaks. She saw Harry warmly smile at the baby who peered at him with his wide hazel eyes.

"On a business trip in Gulltown," Wynafryd replied, adjusting her baby in her arms.

It doesn't go unnoticed to Sansa how Harry couldn't keep his eyes off the baby in her arms." Can I hold him?"

"Sure," The auburn-haired woman smiled, gently passing the baby to Harry.

Wynafryd opened her mouth to instruct Harry on how to hold the baby but Sansa beat her to it with a soft smile." Don't worry, he got it."

Sure enough, Harry was carefully holding the baby, making sure to support his head.

At the questioning look on Wynafryd's face, Sansa said," He practiced."

Sansa felt her stomach churn and her insides squeezed painfully tight. A pang pulsated though her, surging with every second she looked at Harry holding the baby in her arms. A lump formed in her throat as she shoved her hands in her cardigan pockets to hide the fact that they were trembling."… A lot."

* * *

"You're upset," Harry said, glancing at Sansa who was staring out the car window. The car ride home had been quiet and the expression on his wife's face left no room for any attempts at a conversation. The day had started out fairly well, he had even coaxed smiles and laughter from her during the school's fundraising activity. However, Sansa's mood started going south after the exchange with Wynafryd and her son.

He wasn't oblivious as to not know what had brought it on. He had caught the look on her face after he had finally managed to extricate his gaze away from the sight of the baby in his arms.

"Sansa…" Harry urged, placing his hand on top of hers. Sansa slowly withdrew her hand and he tried to bite back the hurt he was feeling as he tried to keep his attention on the road ahead.

"I'm just tired," Sansa softly said under her breath as she leaned her head to the side and closed her eyes.

Harry knew the conversation ended there. Sansa would be tuning him out then and there so he shouldn't press on it more. He gave her a sideway glance and couldn't help but feel the space between them growing more.

He didn't risk pestering her even more as the car ride stretched on until they finally pulled over their driveway. Sansa wordlessly got off the car and stepped into their house while he was busying himself with taking out their things from the back of the vehicle.

"Sansa, we need to talk," Harry said, walking into the living room as Sansa had been about to step on the flight of stairs.

"What do we even need to talk about, Harrold?" Sansa languidly asked, giving him a flat look.

"You're upset and we both know it's not because of exhaustion."

She gave him an exasperated look before she padded over to where he was standing.

There was hopelessness and questions burning in Harry's gaze as he continued." Okay, I'm sorry for upsetting you."

"Don't apologize," Sansa shot him a pointed look, voice getting faintly frosty.

"Sansa-"

"Don't apologize," Sansa slightly raised her voice." Don't apologize because it's not your fault."

Sansa's eyes glazed over, tears gathering at the corner of her eyes. Harry instantly moved closer to her, intending to take her in his embrace but Sansa's voice stopped him.

"Don't," She ground out, tone clipped with bitterness." Don't touch me. Don't give me those pitying looks. I lost our twins. I failed you."

"Sansa, love, you didn't fail anyone. It wasn't your fault. No one could've done anything," He implored, wiling her to listen to him as his eyes desperately searched her face for any sign of understanding.

"Yes, I did. I failed you. I failed us. My body failed me," She cried, tears streaming down her face and the sight broke his heart. It was happening again." I carried them for 5 months. A little more and we could've had our babies. I failed."

"Love, it was a late miscarriage. We didn't see it coming. Nothing is your fault."

"You hate me for not trying again," She sobbed, referring to the time he found out she had been taking pills behind his back after the miscarriage.

"No, I don't. I could never hate you, Sansa," He immediately replied." If it's about the pills, I wasn't angry at you. It was your decision to make if you weren't ready yet but I just wanted to know, that's all."

Sobs and tears wracked her body as her knees buckled from under her and Harry instantly swooped and pulled her to his chest.

"I got you, love," He whispered, wrapping his arms tighter around her and pressing his lips on her forehead." I got you."

He felt as helpless as the day she bled and almost died two years ago.


	4. Chapter 4

The following day, it was like the incident after the school fundraising activity never happened. Sansa seamlessly slipped into her usual character, no traces of the previous day's event etched on her expressions and weaved into her voice. She went about her usual Sunday routine, only the fleeting hint of emotion tucked in the crease between her brows betrayed her. Nine years of knowing her had taught Harry that Sansa somehow liked playing a game of hardening her skin and making herself appear like she wasn't affected by anything. He liked to think that Sansa was the strongest person he knows.

She's had her own cracks and fractures but she had eventually learned to put back together the pieces with her own hands. There is winter coursing through her veins, just like the frost in her eyes when she's mad but when it thaws, she has the most beautiful heart that had survived through many horrible circumstances. However, because of it she had grown with a defense mechanism of hiding her feelings. She'd hide the aches in her heart, the pain seeping at the ridges of her bones or the scars etched deep in her soul with a smile on her face. But whatever she did or how much she faked it, the rest of her may seem convincing enough but when one knew where to look, her eyes held a tinge of sadness in them.

"Where are you going?" Harry instantly asked when he took notice of Sansa grabbing her coat from the rack in the foyer with her purse in her other hand.

"Grocery shopping," Sansa noncommittally answered, shrugging on the coat and looping her arms into the sleeves.

When Sansa had been in the process of plucking her car key from the bowl on the console table, Harry instantly spoke," I'm coming with you. I'll drive."

Sansa blinked, puzzled." Okay…"

Grabbing his own coat from the rack and donning it on, Harry followed Sansa outside.

Unlike the car ride the day before, Sansa actually put in an effort of indulging him in his attempts at a conversation. They talked about work, their friends, her students but they never talk about the topic that they really needed to talk about, the one Harry wants to speak to her about, the one he wants her to open up to about. He doesn't want to even try to hint at it for the fear of upsetting her.

By the time they have reached the supermarket, they have eventually eased into a casual conversation. The thing about Sansa was that she wanted to cling to normalcy so any tension left from last night can be dissipated with her. With their situation, however, Harry wasn't exactly sure if this was a good thing.

"Sansa…" Harry bit back an exasperated groan as Sansa continued scrutinizing the tomatoes in her hands for what seemed like eternity. This was another thing with Sansa. Grocery shopping can be a stressful, all-consuming and never-ending task.

"They need better tomatoes," Sansa grumbled, pointedly regarding the produce.

"It's just a tomato."

Sansa is extremely deliberate in shopping, Harry smiled as he watched her face slightly scrunch in a contemplative concentration.

"Did they get better with you staring?" Harry jested.

Sansa glared at him, dropping a bag of tomatoes into the cart." Shut up."

Harry couldn't be happier to move to another aisle.

"What was that?" Sansa arched a brow, giving him a sharp look after he placed an item into their cart.

"Ice cream sandwich."

"We don't need them."

"But Sansa-"

"No, put them back."

After catching him sneaking items into their cart for the fifth time, Sansa had decided to send him to get a bag of flour which was apparently located at the farthest aisle.

* * *

Most of the items in her list had been checked and she was almost done with going over the groceries after sending Harry to get a bag of flour from a non-existent brand she made up on a whim after his constant antic of sneaking in unnecessary items into their grocery cart. With an accomplished look on the list, she decided that it was time to check on Harry at the last aisle. She was on the process of turning around the cart when she caught sight of a familiar blonde at the frozen food aisle. Cissy Oakcliffe stood over the chest freezers in her casual designer clothes.

Sansa felt herself frozen on the very spot when her gaze landed on the baby positioned comfortably in the grocery cart. He looked around one to two years old, babbling happily with a despicable me minion toy in his hands. She could've sworn she stopped breathing, her heart stopping, when she noticed the baby's features- sandy dirty blonde hair and deep blue eyes.

The myriad of emotions that assaulted her was too overwhelming at that very moment as she willed her feet to move, feeling numb and her knees threatening to buckle from under her. She swallowed down the urge to cry- she refused to make a spectacle out of herself in public- as she blinked furiously to keep the tears at bay, biting her lips that were starting to quiver and her hands gripped the cart tighter as they began to tremble while she frantically looked for any sign of Harry.

"We're done here," Sansa's voice came out harsher than she had anticipated.

"But the flour-"

"We're leaving," Sansa gritted out as she pushed the cart towards the counter.

Honestly, it would have been kinder if he had just stabbed her in the back with a real knife and twisted it painfully. Anything would've been better than this. She felt the strength leave her limbs and hurt, along with an array of emotions, dominated and clung to her to the point that she could feel them throb in her bones. It was like she was stuck in a harrowing vivid nightmare and there was no way to escape as fragments from the past she had tried to forget came back in waves, raising higher and higher, trying to engulf her whole.

"_Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Hardyng, you're having twins."_

Not this again.

"_We're having twin boys."_

Make it stop.

"_I hope they'll have your hair."_

"_And I hope they'll have your deep blue eyes."_

"_Who do you think they'll take after the most?"_

No, no, no.

Sansa felt like something inside her had died a thousand times over. It took everything she had to muster enough strength to clamber off the car when they had arrived home after another silent car ride. She felt like forgoing putting away the groceries and crawling into bed but forced herself to go through the task anyway, numbing herself around Harry.

It was after she had burrowed herself underneath the covers, silent tears streaming down her cheeks and muffling her sobs with her hands that she realized she's had enough. She was tired of pretending and putting up with all the hurt, the betrayal and the humiliation. Everything has a breaking point- her heart included- and there's only so many times she can piece herself back together. It's never easy, it's messy, and it hurts, and it always takes pieces of her every time until she would feel empty, rendered to a damaged shell of a person with a gaping void in her heart. She had lost enough in trying to find happiness in a marriage that sucked it out from her.

"Where are you going?" Harry looked up from his laptop when she had finally descended the stairs, all dressed up and no traces of her crying her eyes out a few minutes ago in her face.

"Out," Sansa curtly replied before leaving, not waiting for Harry's reply or reaction.

Myranda and the others were heading out to the pub that evening since it was a regular holiday the next day so they were free to drink their night away. Drinks were on Grenn and Pyp after they had lost a bet against Theon.

Gin Alley was their go-to pub. It was a sizable pub with a modern interior design, appearing to be the hipster iteration with sleek furniture and lighting, and contemporary undertones. There's a wide live music space and bottles in every shape, color and size adorn the walls of the bar area, the muted colors of the glass occasionally catching every spark of light in the place. The state of the art lighting and sound system bring about a chic and innovative allure, along with the lavish decors.

By the time Sansa, Myranda and Jeyne had arrived at the pub, the guys had already snagged some seats for them by the bar counter.

"So glad you ladies could make it tonight," Theon grinned, winking at them." What a wonderful surprise for Sansa to be joining us."

* * *

Instead of demurring at Theon's advances with a reminder of her marital status like usual, Jon mused, Sansa had just offered a tight smile and a small greeting to them before sliding on a bar stool. There's an unreadable sullen expression etched on her face that she tries to hide with bland smiles and half-hearted attempts at conversations. She had waved down the bartender and had kept to her drink then. Jon could feel himself gawk at her when he saw her chug down her drink faster than his mind could let the sight fully sink in.

As he gaped at her he couldn't but check out her get-up for the night, she's wearing a black high waist skirt that hugged her form deliciously, accentuating the curve of her behind, with a red crop top underneath her leather jacket.

"Are you alright, Sansa?" Jon finally managed.

"Uh yeah," Was her distracted answer as she flagged down the barkeep for another drink." Just some problems at home."

"Did you and Harrold fight?" Jon regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth, seeing the sudden shadow flicker on Sansa's expression for a split second.

She gave him a tight smile, grasping her the glass holding her new drink." Married couples argue. It's normal."

"How long have you been married?"

"Three years," She answered, wistfulness lacing her tone.

Myranda interrupted their conversation to tell Sansa that she was heading to the dance floor and asking if she wanted to join, along with Jeyne. Sansa politely decline, gesturing at the drink in her hand. After Myranda had left with Jeyne, Sansa and the remaining guys chat for a bit before a tall brunette caught Theon's attention, making him join her in the dance floor, Grenn and Pyp eventually following, partnering with Myranda and Jeyne.

"Come join me in the dance floor?" Jon shot her a smile, dreading her answer.

Sansa appeared to hesitate at first." Sure. Let me finish my drink first."

They effortlessly slipped in among the crowd and Jon eventually made Sansa smile and giggle with his exaggerated dance moves, feeling more accomplished than ever for getting rid of the sullen expression on her face. His senses were thrumming and buzzing with the smell of her as the throng of people forces them to move closer to each other, twisting, turning, and swaying. He grinned like he'd never had before when he gets rewarded with a pretty giggle from Sansa as he spun her around.

After the third song, they returned to their seat and got another drink. Sansa continued to take gulped down her drinks, keeping the alcohol flowing like an IV drip. Jon started to worry.

A message ringtone went off from inside her purse then she looked up to see Myranda wink at her from the other side of the place as she slipped out of the pub with a sinewy blonde. "Well, there goes my ride.

Jon, who also saw Myranda leave, asked," What happened to your car?"

"I left it at Myranda's since I rode with her going here."

"I can drive you home," He offered.

"I don't think-"

"I can also drop Jeyne off on the way. I know for a fact that she came here with you and Myranda. The three of us live in the same direction anyway."

She considered it for a moment. "Sure, okay."

By the time, they had decided to call it a night and get home, Sansa was already absolutely plastered, almost completely slumping against the bar top, cheeks flushing with inebriation and slurring her words.

"Oh gods, we are so getting in trouble with Harry when he knows we let Sansa get this drunk," Jeyne hurried to her friend's side, a faint sway in her movement indicating she, herself, was a bit tipsy.

"Calm down, Jeyne," Grenn said, from beside Pyp, Theon had a left awhile ago with the brunette he had been grinding against after telling them that he was spending the night somewhere else." We'll get her home safely."

"Randa was our ride home," Jeyne huffed." But she had texted Sansa and I that she was leaving early."

"I can drop you off. Sansa and you live in the same direction as me anyway," Jon offered.

After they have split ways on their ride home, with Grenn and Pyp sharing the former's car and Jon volunteering to take the girls home, throughout the car ride Jon couldn't help but sneak glances at Sansa on his rear view mirror who was sprawled on the backseat, her head leaning against the window with her eyes closed.

Even in her gaunt drunken state, she still looked beguiling as ever. Despite constantly reminding himself that she was a married woman, he could never help but be drawn to her every time. Everything she does and she is awakened something in him.

He stopped himself from checking out Sansa when they were nearing Jeyne's house. After pulling over on Jeyne's driveway, the brunette had thanked him for the ride and wished him a good night, mouthing a 'take care' at Sansa, whether she was asleep or not.

"Please make sure she gets home safe. Thank you," Jeyne said before stepping through her front door, faintly wobbling in her steps.

He was a few blocks from Jeyne's house when Sansa stirred and drowsily blinked her eyes open, taking in her surrounding and slurring through her next words.

"Where are we?"

"On the way to your house."

"I don't wanna go home."

"But Sansa-"

"Take me anywhere. Just not there. _**Please**_." Sansa sounded so broken and miserable in that moment. He caught something glimmer trailing down her cheeks in the dimness of his car. He knew he was going to regret his actions but something in him wanted to whatever it takes to wipe away the tears from her face. He blamed it on the tears, he was always a sucker for crying people, always helpless around crying girls especially.

* * *

When Sansa woke up the next morning, it was with an excruciating pressure in her cranium that had 'hangover' written all over it all too well, feeling like her brain would swell beyond the capacity of her skull that would eventually crack under the strain. Her throat ached, already adding to her misery, and it hurt to even move or open her eyes. Her stomach lurched with nausea and her eyesight struggled to cope with the bit of rays of sunlight escaping the drawn curtains, as it seemed like the room swirled in front of her. A room that was definitely not hers, she finally realized, abruptly shooting up from the bed and she almost lost her balance as she swayed on her feet, keeping a firm grip on the headboard to keep herself steady.

Regarding herself, she was relieved that she was dressed as the night before, minus her leather jacket that was folded neatly on a chair nearby. She frantically searched for her purse which was on the nightstand, hastily fishing out her phone.

Apparently, she had turned it off last night after receiving the message from Myranda. Her phone pinged with message after message when she finally turned it back on. No sooner than that did she receive an incoming call, Randa's caller ID flashing on the screen. Scarcely after pressing the green button, Myranda's voice boomed from the phone.

"Where the heck where you last night, Sansa? Your husband had called me in the middle of the night, worried sick, asking where you were." Sansa cringed at this, having to flinch away from her phone at the volume of Randa's raised voice." I had to stop him from calling the police."

"Randa…" Sansa groaned, Myranda's call doing _wonders_ to her hangover and her conscience." I'm fine. I'll explain everything at school tomorrow."

"You better," She heard Myranda huff on the other line.

After assuring Myranda that she was fine and that she'll be heading home soon, they bid each other goodbye before Sansa hung up.

And to attest to what Myranda had said, there were 79 missed calls and 50 unread messages from Harry, all asking where she was, sounding more frantic and worried with message after message. There were also missed calls and unread messages from Myranda.

After checking on them, her phone rang again, informing her of an incoming call. This time from Harry.

She bit her dry cracked lips as guilt gnawed at her. She let her phone ring, refusing to answer as she remembered what transpired the previous night. Did she actually go home with Jon Snow? And did they-

Another call interrupted her thoughts and she heaved a sigh of relief when she saw Jeyne's caller ID.

"Sansa, where are you?" Jeyne sounded panicked from the other line." My phone died last night so I just saw Harry's messages now."

"It's a long story. I'll tell you all about it tomorrow," Sansa replied, taking in the bit of information Jeyne spoke at the end." What did you tell Harry?"

"Well, I've never gotten around to replying to him but-"

"Tell him I'm fine and if he asks, tell him that I spent the night at your place," Sansa blurted out, her guilt growing tenfold at having to resort to lying and getting her friends involved.

"But Sansa-"

"Please, Jeyne?"

Jeyne sighed and Sansa knew it was the sound of her relenting. "Okay."

"Thank you so much, Jeyne. I promise I'll explain everything to you tomorrow at school."

After their call ended, Sansa had mustered enough courage to step out of the unfamiliar bedroom after her attempts at making her tangled hair look presentable and poorly straightening out her rumpled top, resolving to merely throwing on her leather jacket.

She made out the quiet hum of a coffee maker and followed said sound to the kitchen where she found Jon sitting by the kitchen island with his dark curls tousled, wearing sweatpants and a white wifebeater shirt that showed off his toned arms.

The toaster dinged and Jon had looked up at the sound, inadvertently catching sight of her standing at the kitchen entrance. _Looking like she was on the process of doing the walk of shame._

"Sansa," He blurted, jolting in his seat." Uh good morning."

"Good morning, Jon," She forced a smile before she schooled her expression to a neutral one." Did we-"

Jon instantly flushed, flustered. " N-no! I would never take advantage of a drunk woman."

"Thank you."

Silence settled over them as Sansa stayed rooted on the spot by the threshold, stopping herself from taking even a step closer to Jon.

"So," Jon managed a smile," Breakfast?"

"I'd love to…" Sansa chewed on her bottom lip," But I really have to go pick up my car at Myranda's then head home. Or else Harry would probably call the police for his missing wife."

"I understand." Despite the understanding look, his voice painfully sounded a bit like dejection.

* * *

"Where were you?" Harry had practically leapt out from his seat on the living room couch when she entered the house. There were dark bags under his eyes, his hair ruffled in all direction since Sansa knew he had a habit of running his hand through his hair in frustration, and the white shirt he had been wearing looked rumpled as if he had been tossing and turning in his sleep. But judging from his appearance, Sansa knew he didn't even get a wink of sleep last night. Something inside her took wicked joy in this.

"I told you, I was heading out," Sansa stonily replied, walking past him.

"That's not exactly an answer," Harry rebutted, grabbing her hand to keep her from disappearing upstairs.

Sansa yanked her hand from his grasp, taking him aback." I was at the pub with the girls and some other teachers from school."

"And after?"

"I stayed at Jeyne's."

"Bullshit," Harry shot back.

"Excuse me?" She shot him a withering glare.

"I called Grenn and Pyp and they said you left with Jon and Jeyne," He disclosed." If you had stayed at Jeyne's then Myranda would surely know and it took Jeyne this morning to reply. I know that from the direction of Gin Alley, Snow would be dropping off Jeyne first then you, which he never did."

"What are you trying to say, Harrold Hardyng?" Her voice shifted to a dangerous tone.

"I'm trying to say that the least you could do is tell me the truth."

"That's rich coming from you," Sansa scoffed with a sardonic expression.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means that I know you've cheated on me with your secretary!" The words spilled out her mouth like an erupting volcano that had went past its breaking point." And you have the audacity to question my faithfulness in this poor excuse of a marriage!"

Harry had the gall to look stunned, his words dying a silent death in his throat for a split second." Sansa- I-I didn't… W-why didn't you say anything?"

"Because somehow, I still wanted to believe in you. And that was so stupid of me," Her voice broke but she refused to cry in front of him in that moment." You even impregnated her when I had to suffer through a miscarriage. She had a baby when I lost mine. How can you be so shameless?!"

She pounded her fists against his chest." It should've been me! I'm your wife! It should've been me!"

"Sansa," Harry managed to catch her fists in his grasps, effectively stopping her punches." What are you talking about?"

"I saw Oakcliffe with a baby in the grocery store, blonde hair and deep blue eyes," Sansa hissed, wrenching her hands away from his.

"W-what?" Harry croaked out." That was her nephew, Sansa. What the hell?"

"Regardless if it's her nephew or your spawn, you still slept with her and are still sleeping around with her."

"Still sleeping with her? It was a one night stand and I never slept with her again. My mind was not at the right place at that time," Harry desperately explained.

"Yeah, right," Sansa all but snarled." Where did I go wrong, Harry? What did I do that was so horrible to warrant this kind of betrayal?"

"Nothing. It wasn't your fault. It was me. I made a mistake."

"Bullshit," Sansa fiercely shot back, taking him aback. Sansa never swore." I was never your first choice. Not then and not now. You never wanted me. You just settled."

"Sansa-"

"I stayed by your side, Harry, long before you fancied yourself in love with me. I was just a bestfriend to you. I stayed by your side when most of your friends turned their backs on you when you slept with your best pal's girlfriend. I patched you up after every fight. I was there for every football game, every cricket tournament, every girlfriend that came and went, even every time you completed those damn world cup sticker albums." Rage dominated her features and she was proud of herself for not even shedding a tear. "And apparently it wasn't enough. I was never enough."

And to add the final nail in the coffin, she said." I want a divorce."

"No," Harry gritted out, his voice firm." Marriage is about not giving up on each other. And I'd be damned before I actually let you go. I refuse to give up on you."

"You already lost me, Harry."


	5. Chapter 5

It was odd waking up alone, Sansa realized. There was the ominous empty side of the bed that kept reminding her of Harry's absence. Despite this, she kept to her side of the bed, having a fitful night's sleep. After their fight the previous day, Harry had volunteered to sleep in the guest room to give her the space she was asking for and giving her time alone to think since after their argument Sansa had been hell-bent on avoiding Harry for the rest of the day, having resorted to escaping to her favorite library.

Due to her uneasy sleep, she had woken up earlier than usual. She immediately threw herself into the mundane process of going through her usual morning routine. After making sure she had fed Lady and had all her things in her bag, she set out for King's Landing Middle School. She knew it was too early, Harry hasn't even woken up when she left, but she wanted to hold off having to face her husband that morning. She knew she couldn't put off the confrontation forever and it was bound to happen. She was still reeling from the events of the previous day.

When she arrived in front of the faculty room, she discovered that it was locked. Groaning in frustration, some petty part of her had decided to vent out her ire on the stupid door, furiously twisting the knob and kicking the door. She eventually sagged against the wall in a pathetic state, the events from the previous day crashing down on her full-force, tears welling in her eyes.

"The little bird seems to be too early today," Sandor nonchalantly commented, a red mop bucket in tow.

"Don't call me that," said Sansa sharply in a watery tone, furiously wiping her tears.

She was taken aback when Sandor dropped a black handkerchief on her lap, looking at him quizzically and managing a small 'thank you' before gingerly wiping her tears with it.

"So what happened to you?" Sandor gruffly asked.

Sansa avoided meeting his gaze, fiddling with the handkerchief in her grasp.

"Trouble in paradise?" Sandor continued." Your cunt of a husband causing you trouble again?"

"No, we're just… hitting through a rough patch right now," Sansa forced a tight smile.

"You know you could always leave him."

Sansa jolted at his words." It's not that easy, Sandor."

"Fuck that bullshit. It's not that easy or you just don't wanna leave the cunt? If he's making you so miserable, why stay with him?"

"I don't know."

"You've always loved that boy too much," Sandor said, moving closer to Sansa's direction and sliding in the key to the faculty room before pushing it open." Don't let it blind you."

Even as Sandor left, Sansa stood there, pondering on his words. _Marriage had been a real eye-opener._

* * *

Explaining things to Myranda and Jeyne had been easier. As soon as the two women had arrived, Randa had all but dragged her into the faculty comfort room, Jeyne following behind them, asking her to spill details of what happened. So she did. She told them everything, including Harry's infidelity, even about the incident with Jon and the fight with Harry after. Myranda had swore and cursed at Harry. Jeyne had consoled her, giving her a bear hug so tight that Sansa almost wheezed. Both of them have given her commiserating looks but Sansa had found that her tears had dried up. They both agreed that she was right to ask for a divorce.

What wasn't easy was facing Jon Snow after what happened.

"I'm really sorry for inconveniencing you the other night," Sansa ruefully apologized, finding it difficult to meet Jon's gaze.

"You haven't inconvenienced me at all," Jon assured." In fact, I'm sorry for-"

"You don't have to apologize for it," Sansa good-naturedly interrupted." I shouldn't have drank too much. What was I even thinking?"

(She was thinking that she wanted to hurt Harry like how he hurt her.)

Jon laughed.

Sansa gave him a confused look." What?"

"I just remembered how you chugged your drink like it was nothing," Jon replied, amused.

"That's not funny," Sansa nearly squeaked in embarrassment.

* * *

"What is it this time?" Roland asked, eyeing Harry suspiciously, as he sat across from him in the latter's office.

"What?"

"You and Sansa had a fight, didn't you?" Roland gave him a knowing look.

Harry breathed a deep sigh.

"That bad, huh?"

"She knows," Harry morosely divulged.

"About?"

"Cissy," Harry practically bit back.

Roland's eyebrows rose to his hairline." How?"

"Apparently, she has always known about it."

"You really are in deep shit, man," Roland whistled.

Harry pointedly glared at him." As if I didn't know that already."

"Well, did you guys at least talk?" Roland impatiently tapped his fingers on Harry's desk.

"Aside from Sansa yelling at me and threatening to get divorce? No."

Roland instantly face-palmed, shaking his head." You idiot."

Harry arched a brow." Really? You're calling me that now?"

"Yes, because that's what you are right now," Roland retorted." I keep telling you to talk to her about it, especially about what you had to go through after the miscarriage."

"Sansa's feelings are more important," Harry sharply shot back, giving Roland a piercing look," Not mine."

"Did you tell yourself that before or after you slept with Cissy?"

"Fuck you."

Roland sighed." You know, you've cheated countless of times with your partners in the past and you've been pretty nonchalant about those. I don't get why you're so hung up on this."

"This is Sansa," His voice hardened, before he eventually relented, expression softening," She's different."

"Uhuh," Roland noncommittally replied." And this is also Sansa, your wife that you cheated on."

Harry glowered at the other man. "You're really bad at this, Roland."

"Yes, I am," Roland concurred." That's why we're asking help from someone else."

"What are y-"

Before Harry could even snarl a question at Roland, the Waynwood had stepped out of his office and disappeared outside.

A few minutes later, Roland returned with a displeased looking Donnel Waynwood in tow. Harry knew Roland must've interrupted the grudging deputy chief financial officer at the middle of going through some financial statements and reports.

"This better be important, Roland," Donnel muttered before taking the seat by Harry's desk, Roland taking the one across.

"Sansa knows about Cissy, and Harry and Sansa haven't even properly talked about _it_," Roland blurted out.

"Damn it, Ron," Harry cursed, glaring at the younger Waynwood.

Donnel gave Harry a dismayed incredulous look." You idiot."

"That's what I told him," Roland chimed in eagerly then added," She's also asking divorce from him."

"She also accused me of impregnating Cissy," Harry further imparted, since Roland was already doing a great job at spilling his fuck-ups.

"What?" Roland exclaimed in surprise.

Donnel merely looked at him, studying his expression." Did you..?"

"Of course I didn't," Harry all but growled at the implied accusation." She just saw Cissy's nephew and assumed things."

"Her sister's baby?" Roland confusedly blinked.

"Yes!"

"And did you tell her that the baby wasn't yours?" Donnel unperturbedly inquired.

"Yes, I did. She just continued lashing out on me. And…" Harry's expression deflated." And she brought up our relationship in college, how I had always overlooked her and how I just settled with her."

"Damn, you really pissed her off," Roland commented." What did you even do to make her that mad?"

"I might have…" Harry trailed off." I kind of very subtly insinuated that she had spent the night at another man's house."

"Then you weren't that subtle if you made her that mad," Donnel pointed out.

"Boy, that's really a low blow coming from you," Roland's eyes practically bulged out at the revelation." And she'd known about the affair for quite awhile now?"

"Yes."

"You've dug your grave now, Hardyng," Roland declared.

"Are you giving her that divorce?" Donnel's words made Harry's blood run cold.

"No," Harry firmly replied, clenching his fists." I won't give up on her. I love her too much."

"Did you tell yourself that before or after you slept with your former secretary?" Donnel raised a brow at him.

"I told him that too," Roland fervidly piped in.

"Look Harry," Donnel sighed, the sound making him seem older and not to mention, exasperated." You've both married too young. You, fresh out of business school and Sansa starting out with her teaching career, both bright-eyed at the prospect of marriage. The first three years of marriage are always the hardest. Just talk to her."

* * *

Donnel's words were still running through Harry's mind when he went home that evening. For the longest time, Sansa had been the one person he'd turn to, the one person he talks to when things start going wrong but then things started changing two years ago and Roland had always told him to talk to someone about it. But how could he? When the one person he always turned to didn't seem like she even wanted to talk to him.

"Sansa-" The words die in his throat, all those that he had rehearsed and gone over in his mind instantly leave him as his gaze landed on Sansa placing her clothes into a duffel bag.

"I'm leaving, Harry," Sansa firmly said, gaze steely and unwavering." We need time apart from each other, even for just a few days or a week. I'll come back then."

"I'm not giving you that divorce, Sansa," Harry brusquely said." I'm not giving up on you or us."

Sansa scoffed bitterly." There hasn't been an 'us' for two years, Harry. Since then, there was only me trying to save this crumbling marriage."

"Sansa, I was there too," Harry argued." You just didn't want me there."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means I was trying too, Sansa. Even you never seemed pleased or happy with me, I was trying too."

"Oh, really?" Sansa jeered." You have a weird way of showing it."

"I made a mistake. I'm sorr-"

"Stop apologizing," Sansa harshly cut him off." That's all you ever do. Apologize. As if that could even fix anything. I'm done with this."

"We need to talk," Harry firmly declared, words unfaltering." We can just run away from this."

"I'm not running away. I'm ending this, rightfully so."

"Divorce isn't always the answer."

"And staying with a person that makes me miserable is?" Sansa heatedly shot back.

Harry flinched, looking pained." Do I really make you feel that? Miserable?"

"If you haven't noticed by now," Sansa sardonically said," Being cheated on doesn't exactly make anyone happy."

"We've always been happy before."

"Yes, _**before**_," Sansa practically hissed, tone dripping with contempt." A lot of things has changed."

"You, most of all."

Sansa's eyes narrowed." You think I wanted any of this? I never asked for a cheating husband. I never asked for a broken marriage. And I… I definitely did not ask to have a late miscarriage."

"Sansa-"

"I don't wanna do this anymore," Sansa grumbled, making a move to lift the duffel from the bed before Harry stopped her.

"You can stay here," Harry said, a pained look on his face." I'll leave."

"What?"

"I'll give you that space you want for a week."

"Where will you even go?"

"I'll stay with Ronald for the meantime."

Sansa quietly watched as Harry began packing his belongings into his own duffel bag.

"When I get back, let's talk," Harry said as he slung over his bag on his shoulder before walking towards his car." And Sansa, I love you. Don't forget that."

We all have that one person we would love no matter how much pain they put us through, and Harry was that person for Sansa.

_I love you too. Even when I don't want to anymore._

* * *

"When I said talk to your wife, I didn't mean get kicked out of your own home," Roland pointed out, watching Harry as he gulped down another glass of bourbon that he got from his living room bar area. Earlier that night, Harry had come knocking on his door and announcing that he was staying there for at least a week.

"Oh, shut up," Harry replied, tone less biting." I didn't get kicked out. She said she needed space so I gave her just that."

"And the talk?"

"She didn't wanna listen to me. So I told her we'd talk after I come back."

"You keep putting off really talking to her. You did too two years ago and look where it got you."


	6. Chapter 6

It had been at least an hour after school as Sansa was drafting a written activity for the class meant for next week in her cubicle at the faculty room where most of the teachers had already opted to head home when Sam came traipsing in front of her cubicle, claiming someone was looking for her in the school's main lobby.

She felt something twinge at the bottom of her stomach, Harry's name fleetingly appearing at the back of her mind. It had been three days after Harry had left their home when she had attempted to leave herself, demanding for some sort of indefinite break between them for the meantime.

However, she was bewildered when she saw Roland lounging back on one of the lobby's orange modular chairs. He instantly flashed her a wide smile when he saw her, standing up to greet her.

"Hello, Sansa. Surprise?"

"Roland," Sansa managed a smile." It certainly is. To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?"

"Well…"

"If you're here for Harry, then don't bother," Sansa slightly bristled, seeing the look on Roland's face." If he wanted to talk to me, he should've went here himself, not send his cousin for him."

"Can we talk in my car?" Roland asked, glancing at the people in the school lobby.

"Sure."

After they had got themselves inside his car, Roland finally divulged the real reason as to why he was there.

"Harry didn't send me," He said, appearing rueful." I came here on my own choice."

"Why?"

"Because Harry's suffering too," He firmly pointed out. "He sulks around the house and he's working his way on emptying my liquor stash."

"And you want me to get him out of your hair?" Sansa arched a brow.

"No, I want you to talk to him," Roland responded." He was affected by the miscarriage too."

"I didn't say he wasn't."

"It had been damaging for him too, more than you know."

"If you're gonna use that as an excuse for his infidelity then I'm gonna have to stop you right there," Sansa coldly stated.

"I'm not. He cheated on you. There's no excuse for that."

"Then why are you telling me this?" Sansa eyed him cynically.

"Because Harry seemed like he won't be telling you any of this himself without a little push."

Sansa didn't reply to that. A sudden silence enveloping the atmosphere inside the car.

"When you first met him, you knew he was a cheating asshole wh-"

"Just stop," Sansa quickly riposted, cutting him off.

Only to be puzzled when she saw Roland was smiling at her, chuckling he said," You always hated it when someone talked crap about him. I'm glad that hasn't changed yet."

"For now," Sansa retorted.

"Talk to your husband, Sansa," Roland gave her a friendly pat on the shoulder," You both need it."

Sansa replayed the encounter with Roland even as she was working her way on the papers that needed grading in the faculty room. Ms. Unella had gone home a few minutes ago and that left Sansa alone in there. The only sound in there was the ticking of the wall clock and the hushed rustling of the papers on her desk.

She almost jumped out her skin when a door abruptly opened. With her heart ferociously hammering against her ribcage, she tried to compose herself as she saw it was only Principal Elia Martell stepping out through the door that connected the principal's office and the faculty room. She appeared to be heading home herself, with her bag slung over on one shoulder and a light brown coat draped on her arm. Whenever she saw the older woman, it never failed to remind her of the time Myranda had asked why she preferred to be called Principal Martell rather than Targaryen to which she had replied that it was her who worked hard to get her master's degree and PhD, not her husband.

"Mrs. Hardyng," Principal Martell amiably greeted her to which she responded in kind." Quite the overtime."

"Just finishing up with some papers," Sansa sheepishly replied, gesturing at the neat pile on her desk.

"First person to arrive and last person to leave. You're quite the dedicated teacher, Mrs. Hardyng," Principal Martell smiled warmly, the expression making her comelier than she already was.

"Thank you. I try to do my best."

"I know. You're one of my best teachers here, a valuable asset to this school and showing great promise even in your young age," Principal Martell's expression suddenly turned somber with her next words." And I know I shouldn't pry. It's your business but I can't possibly ignore something that might be affecting on of my excellent teachers here."

"What do you mean?"

Principal Martell let out a sigh." I overheard you talking about your… troubles at home with Myranda and Jeyne in the faculty C.R."

"Oh."

"I shouldn't be prying," Principal Martell had a guilty expression on her face." But I was once in the same situation as you. Though, I'm sure you've already known that."

She knew the last sentence was an implication about her Aunt Lyanna.

"You're the only one married among your friends, right?" Principal Martell continued.

"Yes, I am," Sansa quietly replied then added," For now."

The older woman gave her a sad smile." You know, it's easy for people to advice divorce, especially when they haven't been married themselves."

"Myranda's and Jeyne's hearts are at the right place," Sansa good-naturedly defended.

"I know," Principal Martell replied, giving her a sympathetic look," I also know that you're going to need all the support you can get here. But divorce isn't always the answer."

"My husband tried to tell me the same thing."

"When Rhaegar cheated on me with your Aunt Lyanna, I thought divorce would solve everything. But I thought of the kids and how nothing was their fault yet they had to suffer for it. My husband was horrible and I would never forget what he did. Eventually, I've learned that forgiving was better than holding grudges. I'm not telling you to forgive your husband. I'm telling you to think about it more."

* * *

The bell above the door chimed as Harry entered the café. He felt relieved at finally getting out of the rain that was pouring outside. However, that relief was short-lived when he remembered the reason as to why he was in that café in the first place.

It had been five days after he left home and there wasn't a day that he spent that he wasn't miserable. He wanted to be back home more than ever and he wanted his wife back more.

Since there were a few people in the café it was easy to spot Sansa sitting at the corner by the window, regarding the downpour outside. She didn't tear her gaze from it even when he sat on the chair across her.

The silence added more to the dread he was already feeling. It hung in the air, thick and heavy, gnawing at his insides, a gaping void wanting to be filled. Sansa's expression never gave anything up, the smoke billowing from her cup of tea making her look even more somber. He silently thanked the waitress for cutting off the uneasy silence when she took his order and promptly returned with it.

"What happened to us?" Sansa finally spoke, facing him after her question.

"Life."

"Roland visited me at school the other day," Sansa filled in, gingerly blowing on her tea before taking a sip.

Harry grimaced, _what did Roland do now?_ "He never told me anything about that."

"He told me something about you after the," She paused, the words felt heavy at the tip of her tongue, a lump suddenly forming in her throat," miscarriage."

"Roland was probably exaggerating."

"Maybe he was or maybe he wasn't," Sansa shrugged." I just want to know what happened to you after the miscarriage that lead you to do what you did."

"Nothing. I made a mistake."

"The least you could do is be honest with me," Sansa's hurled the same words he had used against her.

Harry fell silent.

"I was lonely."

"That doesn't excuse your infidelity," Sansa snapped." I was lonely too. I needed you more than ever."

"You had Arya and Brienne with you. But I had no one. Not even you. You pushed me away and it was like you hated it when I was around you," Harry retorted, the words he had buried underneath all these years came spilling out without filter.

"That's not true," Sansa pointedly shot back." I felt like it was my fault and whenever I saw you, I was reminded of how I failed you."

"I'm your husband, Sansa. You could've talked to me," Harry painfully reminded her." But instead you went to your sister and Brienne. You spent your days with them and even had them sleep at the same bedroom as you for a month. I had to sleep in the guest room, hearing you cry and I wanted more than ever to comfort you and be there for you but you won't let me."

"Arya and Brienne had always been there for me."

"I know that they were a constant in your life for the longest time," He acknowledged, thinking of all the times he would turn to her sister and her bestfriend when he was there too." But we were married, Sansa. I was supposed to be the one you turn to, just like how I always turned to you."

"I can't just stop confiding in them."

"I'm not asking you that," Harry countered." We could've been there for each other. We both lost our twins. But for the longest time, I felt like I had I couldn't have my own emotions because, after all, I wasn't the one who lost the babies. I had no right to give in to my sadness when you were suffering."

"Harr-"

"I had to be strong for you. But when you didn't seem like you even needed me at all, it was so easy to throw myself into work," He swallowed thickly." And that's when Cissy offered company. She was just there."

It was when he saw Sansa staring at him, wide-eyed, did he realize that he was crying, tears silently trailing down his cheeks. Harrold Hardyng never cried. Never. This was embarrassing but he couldn't help himself anymore.

* * *

"Mom, am I horrible wife?" Sansa solemnly asked, Catelyn Stark's tombstone staring back at her.

The conversation with Harry at the café had changed a lot of things. She had been extremely bewildered when she saw Harry cry. In the end, they had decided to stick with the original plan of staying away from each other for a week. Harry had hugged her when they parted ways and it took everything she had not to give in.

"Mom, I don't know what I'm doing anymore," Sansa sobbed, tears welling up in her eyes." Everything feels so wrong."

" I love Harry, I really do. But it hurts. He cheated on me but I still love him."

"Sansa?"

Sansa stiffened when she heard that voice. After quickly wiping her tears, Sansa turned to see Petyr Baelish, the same dangerous air around him as the last time she saw him, the same gleam in his laughing gray-green eyes, and the way he was looking at her made Sansa feel uncomfortable.

"Petyr, what are you doing here?" Sansa good-naturedly asked, or tried to." I thought you were at Braavos."

"I returned a week ago and I wanted to pay my respects to Cat," He replied, the smile he was giving her never reaching his eyes." And you? I thought you were residing at King's Landing now."

"I made time to visit."

"Oh? And Harry's not with you?"

Sansa didn't let her expression give anything away. The last thing she needed was Petyr Baelish finding out about her troubles in her marriage. "He couldn't make it. Work had been hectic for him lately."

"A pity," Petyr said." If I had a wife like you, I would always make time for my wife. He should be treating you better."

"Harry's treating me well," She shot back, _except for the cheating part_.

"I didn't say he wasn't, sweetling."

"It was a pleasure seeing you again, Petyr, but I must get going now." Sansa made to leave.

"The pleasure is all mine, Sansa."

She could still feel his gaze on her even as she was walking away from him.


	7. Chapter 7

Sansa had been in the middle of preparing for bed when her phone's ringtone went off, alerting her of an incoming call. Roland's caller ID flashed on the screen.

"Hello."

"Sansa, thanks goodness you're still awake," Roland let out a relieved sigh from the other line." Harry forgot his things at my place and he's not answering my calls."

"I'm afraid I don't quite get where you're heading at, Roland."

"I know it's been a week already and Harry's home by now but he forgot to drop by my place to get his things," Roland chuckled." Must be the excitement and all."

"But Roland, Harry hasn't gone home yet. I haven't seen him since a day ago."

"What?" Roland spluttered." People at work said he left early."

Sansa chewed on her lower lip, dread gathering at the pit of her stomach." He hasn't even contacted me."

Roland cursed under his breath." What is he up to now?"

"Who saw him last?" Sansa asked, racking her brain for scenarios and possibilities. Her worry started to build up.

"His secretary."

"Oakcliffe?" She knew it wasn't the time for it but she couldn't help the bitterness that dripped from her tone.

"No, Gyles Grafton," Roland replied." Harry's had a new secretary a few months ago."

Sansa had been taken aback with this new discovery. It's been over a year since she last visited Harry at work. She remembered how Cissy would eye her haughtily whenever she did so.

"I'll try asking Donnel if he knows Harry's whereabouts," Roland said before proceeding to bid her goodbye, reassuring her that they'll find Harry eventually before ending the call.

After the conversation with Roland, Sansa set out to calling Harry to no avail. Apparently, he had his phone turned off. The next few minutes passed with Sansa pacing their bedroom floor, a worried mess, trying to think of people who could possibly know where Harry was. Her phone was clutched tightly in her right hand. These days Harry never left work early without any reason and if he did, he usually came straight home.

Sansa waited for Roland's call, or even for Harry to call her back, until the worry started gnawing into her, sucking out the strength in her bones and every force from her sinews that she collapsed back on her bed. The last time she saw Harry was at the café the other day and even then, he didn't seem quite like himself when they parted ways.

Sansa had been pondering on the list of places Harry could've possibly went when her phone rang again. Sansa instantly answered it, not even sparing the caller ID so much as a glance.

"Hello, Sansa."

_Petry Baelish_

"How'd you get my number?" Sansa blurted out warily.

"I have my ways." She could practically hear the sly smile in the man's tone and she couldn't help her suspicion towards him from building up even more." Anyway, you're probably wondering as to where your husband is."

Sansa scowled." Where is he?"

"In one of my bars," Baelish replied and Sansa could make out the intentionally barely bridled mirth in his voice." Harrold seems like he's not in the ideal state to drive home right now."

Sansa kept her emotions from giving her away through her tone, especially when she was dealing with Petyr Baelish." Is it the bar across Chataya's grill?"

She knew Baelish made a fortune of his chain of upscale bars and night clubs spread around the state.

* * *

Sansa found Harry practically slumped against the bar counter, in the middle of cajoling the bartender into giving him another drink despite how greatly plastered he was. She knew Harry had high alcohol tolerance so for him to get that much inebriated he undoubtedly had too much to drink.

"That's enough, Harry," Sansa sternly cut in, placing a hand on his elbow, briefly giving the bartender an apologetic look.

"Sansa," Harry slurred.

"Let's get you home." She gave him a look that left no room for any objections.

Fortunately, there was less protests from Harry as she managed to help him on his feet after making sure to pay for his drinks. They were in the process of passing by the wide live music space on their way out when none other than Petyr Baelish appeared out of nowhere with his wide smiles and seemingly friendly disposition.

Sansa bit down her urge to groan in exasperation.

"I see you've found Harrold."

"Yes," Sansa forced a smile," Thank you for telling me, Petyr. But we really have to get going now."

She could feel Harry's grip on her waist tighten and alarm bells went off in her head. She immediately wished Petyr a goodnight before she all but dragging Harry towards the exit.

Getting Harry to give her his car keys had been another challenge as he kept insisting he could drive perfectly well. She was tempted to just shove him to the passenger's seat when he finally relented after how she had snapped at him in frustration, adding in how she really didn't want to die because of his stubbornness.

The ride home was quiet as Harry eventually dozed off in his seat and Sansa kept her eyes glued to the road ahead of her.

Getting Harry into the house wasn't more arduous than she had anticipated as he had fortunately woken up in time so Sansa didn't have to drag a passed out drunk Harry out of the car. Harry had instantly stumbled back on the bed when they stepped into their bedroom.

She was in the middle of helping Harry pull of his white dress shirt when she caught Harry staring at her.

"What?"

"I love you, you know that, right?"

Sansa couldn't help but scoff." I'm starting to doubt that."

"Sansa-"

"Harry, let's talk about it when you're sober," Sansa grounded out." And I'm really tired right now."

"You know, people are most likely to be honest when they're intoxicated. Th-"

Instinctively, Sansa reacted to this the way she usually does whenever Harry was drunk and he won't shut up- she kissed him. She blamed it on the sudden desire stirring low in her gut and the tingly sensation down below as she pressed her lips closer in an almost hungry kiss, her tongue delving into his mouth as he granted her access to it. She could taste the slight burn of alcohol with every push of tongue against hers. Their breaths mingled and her ran her fingers down his spine, pulling him closer as the world fell away around them. He traced his hands on her sides before they drifted to her hips, hoisting her up and prompting her to wrap her legs around him even as they both tumbled into bed.

It wasn't love-making, Sansa knew. Everything seemed too fast and rough. Sansa was too consumed with the sudden desire to leave traces of her on Harry as she bit and sucked on his neck and collarbone. Without wasting any time, both of them had shed their clothes as Sansa ran her hands up Harry's toned stomach while Harry cupped her breast.

Sansa settled on top of Harry before she fully grasped him as she lowered herself on him, drenching his cock in her juices.

Harry groaned," Sansa... God, you're so wet for me... Please."

Sansa exhaled, her breath ragged." Hmmm..? Please what..?"

Sansa had to stop herself from ravishing and riding her husband to completion then and there." Should I ride you to oblivion, dear husband? Or would you rather fuck me with me mewling and moaning under you? Hmmm..?"

"Sansa," Harry practically whined, trying to rut against her.

Sansa wasted no time in sinking down him as they both let out a groan.

"God, you're so tight," Harry grunted, thrusting up against her.

Sansa moaned, digging her nails on his back as they set a wild pace, almost feral and desperate.

"Yes," Sansa mewled and gasped when Harry hit a spot inside her that had her seeing stars behind closed lids.

"You feel so good, Sansa."

Sansa continued riding her husband, bouncing on top of him as he furiously fucked into her, her cunt practically squeezing him, tight and wet, her walls swallowing him whole.

Harry bucked his hips up as Sansa picked up her pace with his hands on her hips holding her in place and they fall into a more furious rhythm, both desperately chasing their pleasure. Sansa whimpered and rocked against him, each thrust has a different angle that has Sansa gasping and clinging to Harry.

When Harry took a pert nipple in his mouth, laving over it and nipping, Sansa keened. She carded her hands through his hair, racking and tugging the blonde locks as she gasped and moaned.

Sansa bit on Harry's shoulder, making him thrust too deeply against her.

"God, Harry," Sansa moaned. Harry could feel Sansa start to flutter and convulse around his cock.

"Let me feel you cum against me, Sansa," Harry hotly said, his husky voice doing wonders to her incoming climax. "Let go, hun."

Her pants turned to loud moans and gasps before she tossed her head back as she keened, her walls clenching down around him.

"Ah! Harry! Oh god, yes!" Sansa peaked and came hard on him as her cunt tightly held his cock inside her.

"Fuck." Harry almost frantically pounded against her, burying himself as deep as he could possibly go inside her and pumping his seed into her.

As the night wore on, Harry would go down on her, lapping and sucking on her womanhood with his fingers thrusting fast and deep into her while Sansa sobbed in pleasure above him, desperately bucking against him, thighs open and encouraging.

They proceeded to fuck all night long, Harry mounting her with her whimpering and wailing under him, Sansa spilling herself over his exploding length, his cum soaking and filling her to the brim, dripping from her weeping slit, to Harry flipping his wife on her back against the pillows, baring on her with her, hoisting her legs on his shoulders, tilting her hips further back as he thrust faster, harder and deeper into her.

All Sansa's inhibitions fled her as her husband took her with wild abandon. She came again and again, her fingers digging into his back, leaving marks and screaming his name in pleasure. They kept going at it, not holding anything back.

"Fuck me until I can't even walk, Harry," Sansa practically cried out after what seemed like five rounds of sex, wrapping her legs around Harry and locking them behind him.

Sansa palmed and toyed with her breast, whimpering and wailing as she neared her climax, before tipping over the edge with a cry, "Harry! I'm cu- Aaahhh!"

Harry pulled Sansa into his arms as she came around him, letting out a guttural growl from deep in his chest as his pace quickened, rocking against in her last tides of orgasm, spilling inside her before collapsing against the headboard, the pleasure almost making Sansa black out.

They're both panting, trying to catch their breath, as Harry continued cradling Sansa against him and Sansa could still feel Harry throbbing inside her. The smell of sex enveloped the room.

Sansa knew that she should be ashamed and confused for acting like a bitch in heat, considering their situation but it never came. All she felt was the sudden deep desire for her husband and the urge to mark what was hers.


	8. Chapter 8

_Hysterical bonding_

The words stared back at Sansa from her cellphone's screen after frantically opening up an incognito tab to google whether what she's been going through lately was normal considering her husband's affair. She didn't know if she should be breathing a sigh of relief or dreading more of this to persist with an increased intensity. Ever since the night after the incident at Littlefinger's bar, she had been feeling the insane and inexplicable urge to- for lack of better words- fuck Harry and please him. She was insatiable, craving for her husband all time, in a variety of locations and positions. Initially, she had woken up, from a whole night spent having sex with her husband, feeling ashamed and humiliated but the inextinguishable desire had won over her, one thing lead to another and the next thing she knew, they were between the sheets, her riding her husband to completion. They even ended up fucking in the shower. And if it wasn't for the risk of being late for work, they would've fucked on the kitchen counter too.

"Is everything okay, Sansa?" Jon asked, startling Sansa and causing her to hastily fumble with her phone before quickly shoving it into her bag. Both of them were on their break due to their vacant periods that afternoon.

Jon raised a brow at this, puzzled with her unusual jittery behavior.

"Yeah, everything's fine," Sansa replied, flashing him a smile.

"It's just…" Jon trailed off, hesitating." You've been acting unusual today."

"What makes you say that?" Sansa blurted out.

"Well… you almost arrived late this morning which was a first for you, you seemed out of it the whole day, and… there's a slight limp to your steps," Jon eyed her worriedly." Did something happen?"

"I just woke up late, I had a long night yesterday," Sansa successfully managed to quell the rising blush on her face." As for the limp, I had a minor leg strain after a morning stroll yesterday."

"Should you really be driving with that limp?"

"Harry drove me here this morning," Sansa felt her face heat up. Harry had insisted to drive her to work, despite her refusal at first, after she had trouble walking after their third round of sex that morning, terribly wobbling in her steps. She only hoped his back was giving him hell." He's probably going to pick me up too."

Jon paused, evidently delaying something and appearing uneasy with what he was going to say." Sansa, can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"Is everything okay at home?" Jon carefully asked, keeping an attentive gaze on her." It's just… I've been meaning to ask you this after you spent that night at my place. You practically begged me not to take you home."

Sansa painstakingly thought over her words in her head." Jon, I know you somehow deserve to know after I got you involved that night. But I assure you, everything's fine at home. A bit complicated for now but still fine."

"Is…" Jon trailed off, cutting himself off with hesitation on his face," Is your husband treating you well?"

"He is," Sansa was quick to answer.

* * *

"I'm guessing a miracle happened last night," Roland gave Harry a knowing look, plopping back on the couch in the latter's office.

"What are you implying, Roland?" Harry sighed, keeping his gaze on the documents he was supposed to be signing.

"The bright red hickey on your neck that you're trying to hide with your collar," Roland gesticulated, grinning wolfishly." Also it was hilarious seeing you try to subtly avoid leaning back when you're sitting down. Must be a hell lot of scratches."

"Shut up, Ron."

"You suddenly went MIA on us last night and then somehow you miraculously made up with Sansa," Roland chuckled." Finally."

"We didn't," Harry curtly said.

"You didn't hit it?"

Harry rolled his eyes." We did that. But we didn't make up. Seven hells, we didn't even get to talk."

"What?"

"I was too drunk. I don't even know what got into Sansa," Harry frowned." I'm worried about her."

"Talk to her then."

"It seems like that's the last thing Sansa wants right now," Harry immediately retorted.

"So you guys didn't even talk this morning?" Roland had an impatient look on his face.

Managing a straight face, Harry replied," We did other things."

"Seven Hells, Harry," Roland gaped.

"I mean I'm not complaining," Harry elucidated." But this is really strange of Sansa. She's always been feminine and sweet but last night and this morning… She didn't even wanna be near me not too long ago and now this."

"You really screwed up."

"Not helping, Roland," Harry grounded out, glaring at Roland.

* * *

Sansa had been discussing over the new evaluation form with Jon after class when Grenn had walked over to them, informing her that she had a visitor. No sooner than that did Harry come striding into the faculty room. His gaze fell on Jon sitting near her and the sudden furrow on his brows didn't escape her.

"You're early," Sansa said, successfully tearing his attention from Jon.

"It's 5:30, Sansa."

Sansa arched a brow, wanting to press on the topic more but decided to let it go. "I still have to go over the new evaluation form. The new system has us working by partners on it this year."

"And I'm guessing Mr. Snow's your partner?" The smile on Harry's face was too amiable that it somehow threw her off, making her cast him a warning look when Jon wasn't looking at her direction.

"It was randomly assigned somehow," Jon was the one who replied." Anyway, Sansa, I think we're okay now. I'll just email you."

When Jon had left, having returned to his cubicle at the other side of the room, Sansa shot Harry a pointed look.

"What was that?" Sansa practically bit back through gritted teeth." On second thought, let's talk in the car."

Sansa grabbed her bag and some folders before politely bidding her fellow teachers goodbye, sauntering out the faculty room with Harry walking next to her.

"I don't like the way he looks at you," Harry griped as soon as they were in his car.

Sansa rolled her eyes." You're being ridiculous. We're just friends."

"I can see that his intentions with you go beyond mere friendship."

"Harrold," Sansa gave him a look of disapproval, voice stern," Mr. Snow is an honest man."

Harry scoffed." He wasn't that honest the night y-"

"Careful, Harry," Sansa warned, narrowing her eyes at him." Be very careful with your next words."

Harry sighed, an indication that Sansa knew meant that he had accepted defeat with this one. Wordlessly, he started the car before leaving the school parking lot.

"I got something for you," He gave her a side-way glance, a small smile forming on his lips." Open the glove compartment."

Sansa deliberately did so, only to see a familiar pink and white box. In spite of herself, she couldn't help but smile inwardly. It was her favorite mini lemon cakes from Hot Pie's pastry shop.

She gave him a questioning look.

"What, I can't treat my wife with her favorite desert once in a while?"

"Thank you, Harry."

The rest of the ride had been quiet after that. Sansa didn't make any efforts at exchanging words with Harry, even when they pulled over into their driveway. It was only when she was heading upstairs that Harry stopped her in her tracks.

"Sansa, we need to talk."

"Okay," Sansa concurred." Let me get changed out of my work clothes first and then we'll talk."

As she was descending the stairs she couldn't help but notice Harry quietly let out a relieved sigh. After she had changed into a pair of cotton pants and a tank top, she set out to find her husband who apparently wasn't in the living room. She eventually found him in the guestroom. He was sitting on the bed, elbows propped on his thighs, hands clasped and deep in thought. Harry had the tendency to go into this zone whenever he was deeply troubled with something. It didn't go unnoticed by her how he had shed his suit and dress shirt, showing his statuesque figure with his well-defined abdomen and arms.

Sansa flushed, feeling the familiar warm wetness building up down there, her womanhood throbbing with an aching desire, and her skin tingling with the sudden urge to fuck her husband. She felt like a hormonal teenage girl again, getting easily aroused with the sigh of a shirtless guy in front of her. His sandy blond hair was tousled and his lips were pursed in concentration.

"Sansa," Harry finally took notice of her presence in the room, standing up, and giving her more view of his shirtless body. Sansa had to bite down a wanton groan.

Harry's words- which she didn't make out from her sex-centered haze- died in his mouth when she slammed her lips to his in hot, fiery, and demanding kiss. She carded her hands through his hair, pulling him closer.

"Sansa," Harry managed to gasp out in between kisses, her teeth tugging on his lips." We need to ta-"

Sansa takes the opportunity to delve her tongue into his mouth, successfully cutting him off." Fuck now, talk later."

Sansa let out breathy sounds and moans, shivering and skin tingling with desire, feeling the immense urge to have a tongue lapping at her clit and the maddening longing to be filled.

Desperately sucking on Harry's bottom lip, she could feel him grasping her hips and eventually backing her against a wall. She grinded her hips against him as he pressed their bodies closer. She could feel his hardness against her stomach, making her paw at the hem of his pants, mewling and whimpering in between kisses.

Harry made sure to pepper her neck and collarbone with kisses as they set out to shed layers of clothing from each other. He kissed the top of her breast, cupping them before deftly unhooking and discarding bra.

"Gods, you're beautiful," Harry breathed, his hungry gaze drinking in the sight of her half naked form.

Sansa let out a gasping moan when he fondled her, playing with her hardened nipples, pinching and kneading. She whimpered and twined her hands, clenching them against his hair, when he took a nipple into his mouth.

"Harry... Gods, yes."

She desperately rocked her clothed crotch against his, the wetness seeping out from her underwear, when he gave the same treatment to her left boob, sucking and biting.

The heat and ache get worse as her desire built up even more, throbbing and getting even wetter in her underwear." Harry, please..."

She practically squealed when Harry hoisted her up against the wall after peeling off her underwear with a kiss to her hip and her inner thighs, throwing her legs up on his shoulders as he knelt in front of her, grasping her hips while she placed her hands on the wall to steady herself.

His head dipped down on the area between her thighs, pressing a kiss on her sex before slowly trailing his tongue along her slit.

"You're already so wet for me," Harry groaned.

Sansa cried out as Harry eagerly lapped and sucked on her clit, the pleasure so intense and overwhelming that she practically clawed and tugged on Harry's hair, spreading her legs wider. Sansa was trembling with the force every sensation that every lick brought about.

"Gods, you taste so good," Harry hummed against her snatch, the sound giving wonderful vibrations over her throbbing pussy.

Sansa howled when Harry plunged a finger into her slit, the pleasure burning an intense fire inside every inch of her body.

"Harry," She gasped out, bucking desperately against him at the intense sensation that whooshed through her.

He hummed a muffled reply before adding to fingers, stroking sensitive nerves and everything inside her clenched.

His fingers thrusted all the way inside her as he lapped and sucked her.

"Harry!" Sansa screamed, arching and throwing her head back as white hot pleasure exploded and pleasure violently pulsed over her, her juices gushing and cries kept slipping out of her lips.

Harry clamped her mouth on her, sucking and giving her long licks, prolonging her pleasure.

"Fuck, you're so hot," He huskily murmured against her lips before practically devouring her in a kiss, making her taste herself on him.

"Fuck me," Sansa whimpered into the kiss.

They didn't even bother tumbling into bed when Harry finally thrusted into her, fucking her against the wall with her legs wrapped around him. He was rocking so deeply into her that she could practically feel him in the bottom of her stomach. Pure unfiltered pleasure coursed through every vein and nerves throughout her body.

"Harder," Sansa cried out, sinking her nails into his back and grinding against him.

Harry obliged, his pace increased, hitting deeper into her, each thrust making her hips roll off the wall and gasp.

"Yes! Oh gods, yes!" Sansa cried out, lifting her hips and meeting his thrusts as she felt another orgasm creeping up on her.

His cock was pushing her to new heights as he pounded into her, his rhythm relentless and wild.

Her sex started pulsing and clenching around him as Harry slammed into her to the hilt." Right there! Oh gods, Harry! Don't stop!"

"Oh fuck," Harry grunted, changing the angle and hitting wonderful places in her. He continued pounding into her, moans slipping out of her parted lips, eventually turning into screams as she reached her peak, squirting messily over his cock.

"Oh shit, Harry," She gasped." Fuck, fuck, fuck…"

Harry's pace quickened, roughly plunging in and out of her. Sansa knew he was nearing his own climax as his rhythm turned unsteady and hurried. He was tightening every muscle in his abdomen to prolong his pleasure before thrusting himself fully into her, spilling his seed into her.

Sansa was still trembling from her orgasm when Harry carried her over the bed. She didn't waste time in straddling him and eventually pushing his cock into his warmth. They both moaned, Harry's length easily sinking deeper into her.

Sansa rode him hard, her breast bouncing with every movement as Harry squeezed and fondled them. His cock was thrusting as deeply as possible into her, stretching her wider and his hands were gripping her hips tight.

"Fuck, Sansa… You feel so good…"

She fucked herself harder on him, gasping and moaning.

"Harry, I'm cumming."

"Come for me, Sansa. Let m-FUCK!"

She tightened around him, clawing at his back, and babbling in pleasure before she climaxed. She felt her entire being came alive from the flood of euphoria and ecstasy.

Harry soon followed after her, growling in pleasure and pumping his seed into her, squelching sounds reverberating around the room.

The last thing she remembered was Harry cradling her to his chest before she eventually drifted off to sleep, spent and sated.

When she woke up, she found Harry's arms protectively wrapped around her and their legs tangled.

She couldn't help a sob from slipping from her mouth as she tried to stifle it back with a hand against her lips. Silent tears burst forth from her eyes, trailing down her cheeks. She must have trembled with her muffled sobs because she felt Harry stir beside her.

"Sssh…" Harry placed a kiss on the crown of her head, eyeing her worriedly." What's wrong, hun?"

"Something's wrong with me," She sobbed." I'm always so horny around you even after what you did. And- and- I just don't know what to do anymore."


	9. Chapter 9

Harry placed the mug of hot choco, with fluffy marshmallows floating in it, on the coffee table. It was three in the morning and Sansa had eventually stopped crying a few minutes ago. Her eyes were slightly puffy, cheeks ruddy, and the tip of her nose flushed red. She was currently sitting on the living room couch with a blanket draped around her. They both should've been in bed right now since they still had to get up early for work in a few hours but that was the least of Harry's concerns as of the moment. He had been awfully worried when Sansa started crying and sobbing, words getting unintelligible between tears and the heart-wrenching sound of her cries.

Sansa wordlessly took the mug, quietly blowing on it before taking a sip.

"I don't think I can do this anymore," Sansa burst, blue eyes glistening, voice sounding weary and worn.

Knowing that this was his fault, his heart broke at her words.

"Sansa, I know this is hard for you," Harry thoughtfully said, fighting off the immense urge to just take her hands in his as he sat next to her." I know things had been difficult lately. But I know we'll get through this. I won't give up on you. I love you so much. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me."

"Then why did you do it?" Sansa shot back, a storm raging in her eyes." If you loved me so much then why did you do it, Harry?"

He felt the familiar shame burning inside him." I don't know…"

"Did she make you feel better after? Did she actually get rid of your loneliness?"

"No. I regret and will always regret what I did."

"Are you still seeing her?"

"No," Harry had been quick to reply." I even had to make her Lady Anya's secretary after she got too pushy."

"I hoped you'd come out and confess about it, you know. I still wanted to have some faith on you. I trusted you to be honest with me," Her voice broke at the end." But you didn't."

"I never wanted you to know."

Sansa's eyes glazed over, tears gathering at the corner of her eyes." I'll never be good enough, won't I?"

Harry couldn't take it anymore and pulled her to his chest, wrapping his arms around her." Don't say that. You're more than enough. It was me. I fucked up."

"I pushed you away," Sansa sobbed.

"I know you didn't mean to. You were hurting."

* * *

"Wanna have lunch at Moroggo's?" Myranda asked, expectantly looking at Sansa from above her cubicle." We do have a 2-hour lunch break."

"Sure," Sansa noncommittally replied.

"Maybe Jon can come along?" Myranda added. Jon, Myranda and her usually had easy schedule during Wednesdays, having a 2-hour lunch break. The others, on the other hand, were still having their class. So once in a while Myranda and Sansa would eat out at a nearby bistro, Moroggo's.

"Yeah, you can ask him." Sansa resisted the urge to yawn after her sentence. Having only two hours of sleep had been a really bad idea. She had eventually fallen asleep on the couch after her conversation with Harry. Her husband might've carried her to their bedroom because she had woken up in their bed instead. He had offered to call in sick for her but she had declined. Now, she couldn't help but think if calling in sick would've been better.

"Sansa, let's go," Myranda's voice pulled her from her train of thoughts. Jon was standing next to Randa, eyeing her worriedly.

Sansa picked up her bag before following them out the door. Eventually, she and Jon easily slipped into a casual conversation with Myranda walking in front of them. They were already out of the school building when Myranda stopped in her tracks, almost making Sansa bump into her back with the abruptness.

"What is he doing here?" Myranda asked, poison practically dripping from her tone.

Sansa followed where Randa's gaze was fixed at, only to see Harry.

"Harry..?" Sansa shot him a quizzical look.

"I knew you had a 2-hour lunch break today so I thought maybe we could eat lunch together," Harry offered her a smile. For a split second, his smile wavered when he took notice of Jon standing next to her.

"We were on our way out for lunch," Sansa supplied.

"Which you-"

"I could join you guys," Harry said, cutting off Myranda.

Myranda instantly replied," No, y-"

"Yeah, sure," Sansa forced a smile.

Their seating arrangement at their table had been even more uncomfortable. Harry had ended up sitting next to Jon after Myranda had immediately taken the chair next to hers, intent on keeping him away from her. It was Myranda who had been blatant with her disapproval with Sansa's decision to put off the divorce.

Harry had settled with sitting across her. Sansa worried about any possible interaction between Jon and Harry.

Despite Myranda antagonizing Harry earlier, Sansa was grateful for her friend for keeping the conversation going at their table so the atmosphere around them didn't feel suffocating or awkward.

"So why are you single again, Mr. Snow?" Myranda mischievously asked, a certain glint in her eyes.

"I guess I've been really busy with work. Teaching is really physically and mentally draining."

"And no one had even caught your eye?" Harry had finally decided to join the conversation, which set Sansa on edge.

"Nope. No one."

"No thoughts of settling down?" Myranda asked, flashing Jon a coy grin.

"Not yet," Jon replied, keeping a polite demeanor despite being interrogated.

"So no thoughts on getting married but certainly having thoughts about married women," she heard Harry mutter and from the way Jon had flinched, she knew he heard it too.

Fortunately, their conversation was interrupted by the waitress returning with their respective orders.

"Marriage is not an easy thing," Jon continued and Sansa prayed he would've just drop the topic already." It's serious and I can't just rush into it. It requires more time."

"Well, Sansa got married when she was 23," Myranda hinted.

"Randa…" Sansa warned.

"So a year after you graduated?" Jon asked, a strange look on his face.

"Yup, Sansa was still starting out with teaching while juggling with her part time master's program during the weekends," Harry smiled proudly at her.

Jon looked at her with a new kind of admiration.

"It's a surprise you guys didn't try for kids," Jon good-naturedly pointed out.

Sansa's breath hitched and Harry looked indignant.

"We did," Sansa forced a smile despite feeling like she wanted to cry." We were going to name them Rickard and Jasper… But I miscarried."

Jon's eyes widened, the color seemingly leaving his face, looking mortified and then apologetic.

Fortunately, Myranda steered the conversation to another topic, somehow turning to a light-hearted atmosphere.

* * *

Sansa logged out early that afternoon. However, she didn't directly go straight home. She dropped by the park first, treating herself with an ice cream before picking a spot in the park.

She sat on a bench in the middle of the cacophony of sounds by children at play, laughing and frolicking around. They were playing on the many colorful play equipment in the park playground while their parents and guardians sat at the side, keeping a watchful eye on them. Some children are yelling in sheer delight as the take turns going down the slide. Others are giggling as they a raised higher on the swing set, their friends pushing them with glee.

"Sansa, it's a pleasure to see you," Petyr Baelish, in his expensive crisp dark oxford shirt, brown coat, sleek dress pants, seemingly appeared out of nowhere.

"Hello, Petyr." In all actuality, she just wanted to be alone in that moment but she knew that was never going to happen with him around.

"Children," Petyr smiled as he took a seat next to her, gazing at the sight of the kids frolicking around the playground," Such innocence."

"Yes. They take so much joy in the littlest things, it's endearing."

Petyr chuckled." You used to be fond of princesses and the idea of ending up with a prince when you were younger."

"I've been such a stupid little girl."

"You thought Harry, with his deep blue eyes, dimpled smiles, and sandy blonde hair, was prince charming, didn't you?"

"I love Harry," Sansa replied defensively.

"I'm not saying you don't, sweetling. Have you ever given it a thought? How convenient it had been for you guys?"

"What do you mean?" Sansa eyed him warily.

"How strangely connected you two were but had never met before. Until college where you instantly fell in love." There was something in Petyr's tone that she didn't like.

Sansa's phone ringtone suddenly went off, interrupting their conversation. Sansa excused herself to go answer the call. The caller ID showed Harry's name.

* * *

After another session of hysterical sex, Sansa laid under the covers, slicked with sweat, languidly staring at the ceiling.

"We never got to talking about them," Harry thoughtfully said.

"Little Rickard and Jasper," Even saying their names brought a pang to her chest." Where do I even begin? I failed them, I failed you, and I failed as a mother. I felt guilty for physically getting better after when they didn't even… It was like I wasn't honoring them enough."

"It's not your fault, Sansa."

"I wanted them. Gods, I wanted them so much. I already had things planned out, you know. Every birthdays and holidays. Wondered on who'd take after who the most. I imagined two little boys playing around the house, their laughter filling our home. I was supposed to be a mother," Her voice was heavy with raw pain and shame." I didn't know what I was supposed to be anymore. I can't even be a wife with my husband being away most of the time."

Sansa studied his reaction," How did you...?"

"I kept myself busy, getting back to work and trying to look after you during your worst states. That way I never had time to give in to my grief. It was a good distraction. I joined a lot of charity matches, played football and other games during the weekends with my friends. I wasn't right for months but no one noticed," Despite the sadness in his eyes, Sansa could see how Harry had tried to keep his voice from faltering." They were my children too. I didn't just lose them, I almost lost you too. You almost died, Sansa. That would forever haunt me."

"I had been upset with you then, not grieving as much as me, not honoring them as much as me," Sansa divulged." I even asked myself how you could just go on with your life."

"We grieved in different ways."

"Not the best ways. But we both grieved, I know that now."

"I would never forget them, I hope you know that."

"I saw two small football kits in the compartment of your office filling cabinet months after."

"You weren't the only one making plans," Harry gave her a sad smile." I imagined teaching them football and all sports I could come up with. They were going to take after my love for games with your smarts and kindness. I even dreaded arguing with you on taking them to Winterfell or the Vale for the holidays. But I know we'd love them no matter what."

"My parents would've loved them." If only her parents had been alive as well.

"Lady Anya was already quite taken with the twins even then."

Sansa remembered how Harry's guardian had been delighted with the news of the pregnancy, making sure to check up on Sansa whenever she can. Even the other Waynwoods had been quite supportive to the point where Harry would jokingly gripe on how they liked her more than him. People had spoken about how the pregnancy had been good for both of them.

"It had been difficult to tell others of the loss," Sansa swallowed thickly." Dealing with their disappointment…"

"Do you think it would ever get better?" Sansa asked, eyes moistening up as she fixed her gaze on him.

"I hope so."


End file.
